


pomegranate

by kiramreid



Series: pomegranate (Sugar Daddy Spencer Reid) au [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Bisexual Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Bisexual Spencer Reid, Biting, Choking, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dancing, Dom/sub, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Freeform, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Memories, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Not Main Pairing Tho, Oral Sex, Other, Persephone Goes Willingly With Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Poly JJ, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Slight Choking, Strangers to Lovers, Strangers to Sorta-Relationship to Lovers, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Spencer Reid, Texting, Vampirism, vampire kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiramreid/pseuds/kiramreid
Summary: “Are you that fond of the underworld that you’d willingly eat the seeds?”"If i am given the chance to be equal to one of the Olympians instead of just a ‘maiden’ then I will take it.”Spencer had never thought he'd be in a relationship like this. Being aSugar Daddyhad never been on his mind. In fact, he'd never known it'd even existed.Then Y/n came and changed everything.
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/William LaMontagne Jr., Luke Alvez/Penelope Garcia, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Series: pomegranate (Sugar Daddy Spencer Reid) au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143029
Comments: 42
Kudos: 113





	1. the text

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, hello! no specified gender, though there are afab bits. I hope you all enjoy this, I've had any idea for a while now but have only just put everything into words.

Rarely did Spencer ever use his phone. 

In fact, the only calls he ever got were from telemarketers and the occasional one from his Mom’s nurses. The last time he had messages not from work colleagues his Mom had been told that her condition all but vanished, which was great, except for the fact that her physical health would soon deteriorate. His work phone was used much more often, of course. Then again it didn’t mean much seeing as he was always on call as an agent with the Behavioural Analysis Unit. So on a Sunday morning during one of his mandated sabbaticals there would normally not be any messages awaiting him.

Until there was. Spencer stared at his phone almost as if he could make the text disappear by will alone. It was still there, blinking at him to open it. Now, had it been one of his team members he would’ve opened it. Though he did prefer to disconnect during his leaves. The label on the notification said _UNKNOWN SENDER._ He watched his phone screen go black before moving to finish his crossword puzzle. Diagonal and then horizontal—the best way to complete it quickly. Once finished he grabbed his phone. It was an Apple phone. Garcia had forced it upon him a few weeks ago. 

The notification stared at him as if to gloat. He wished the words would just reveal themselves so that he could continue on his merry day. It blinked at him again as another message rolled in. 

With a sigh he clicked the notification. Praying that it wasn’t a stalker, serial killer, etc. Luckily it seemed to just be someone who was given the wrong number—whether it was purposefully or intentionally he didn’t care. Spencer has work to do. It was his first day back on Sabbatical and so he needed to figure out what information this month's class would go over. 

_UNKNOWN: hi, you said this was the best place to continue our conversation_

_UNKNOWN: oh, uh, you blocked me on the site?_

Confusion flooded Spencer. Was he getting texts from a prostitute or call person? He decided to clear things up with the text-er so that they would no longer contact his number.

_SPENCER REID: I’m very sorry. I believe you have the wrong number, I am not (and never have been) on any site looking for the type of service you might provide. My apologies._

_UNKNOWN: wait._

_UNKNOWN: that ASSHOLE!!_

_UNKNOWN: IT MAKES NO SENSE WHY CONTACT ME IF HE DIDN'T”T WANT ME TO CONTACT HIM???_

Spencer frowned. In a way he felt sorry for the person on the other end. They were blown off. He didn’t condemn or condone sex work, but agreed that the man shouldn’t have contacted them without the intention of accepting services. 

_SPENCER REID: I’m sorry? You should be careful. A lot of sex-workers are killed by serial killers and one-time offenders._

What was wrong with him? Why would he say that? No one tells someone that they’re likely to be killed because of their line of work. Even if it’s true! If someone had told Spencer being an agent was deadly he’d agree but tell them that it was _his_ choice. Who was he to talk to a stranger like that?

_UNKNOWN: dude, i’m a sugar baby, huge difference_

_SPENCER REID: What’s a sugar baby and how is it different? I presume you are being paid for sexual acts._

Spencer had never encountered the word in a book and didn’t particularly enjoy using the internet. The amount of information would often become overwhelming and so he would forget all of his duties and responsibilities to fall into rabbit hole after rabbit hole of information. The desire controls him enough that he had decided to rarely—if never—look things up on the ‘web.’

_UNKNOWN: ,,,,, okay, well, no, i do not have sex with my sugar providers. im like a companion. who gets paid money._

_UNKNOWN: its just a dif type of relationship, like a trophy wife x rich guy without the commitment_

_SPENCER REID: The sexual pleasure is derived from supporting someone financially, then?_

_UNKNOWN: for the most part. some of the ppl do have sex with their sugar provider but thats not me lol_

Spencer had no idea why he was continuing to talk to the person but he did anyway. He was also a bit excited for new information. This could even potentially help him identify another type of relationship in the field. No. He was supposed to _not_ think about work today. This was just research, mindless research by talking to someone. 

_SPENCER REID: Sugar Provider?_

_UNKNOWN: before we continue talking i want your name. I refuse to talk to someone completely a stranger. my name’s y/n l/n_

_SPENCER REID: My name is Spencer Reid._

_UNKNOWN: unisex. moderately rare for a girl, came into use for boys in the 20th century. English in origin “bringer of provisions”, surname turned firstname. i havent looked up on reid, though. I wonder, are you moderately rare or more common?_

_SPENCER REID: You like learning the origin and information behind names?_

_SPENCER REID: I’m more common? I presume you’re trying to identify my gender, correct?_

_UNKNOWN: yep! and i love to learn names. It’s like the only time i let myself relax. sugar providers are people who pay the sugar babies, it’s a gender neutral term for sugar daddy/mommy._

_SPENCER REID: That makes sense._

_SPENCER REID: Both things._

_UNKNOWN: so, spencer reid, why do you want to know so much about sugar baby’s n shit?_

_SPENCER REID: I don’t really know. My Therapist said I should try to talk to more normal people. I did talk to a girl I met at the park, which I enjoyed doing, but I don’t know. I think all we were meant to have was one good day spent together. Anymore would probably ruin the image I’ve created._

_UNKNOWN: ive had some things like that._

He smile softly at his phone while taking a sip from his coffee. Spencer didn’t know why but he had the itching feeling that he was meant to talk to Y/n all along. Quickly he also changed their contact. They weren’t unknown anymore, so it’d be stupid to leave them as such.

_Y/N: what if you had a day that wasnt normal but was different from your job_

_Y/N: or maybe even more than a single day_

Spencer was intrigued. What would not be normal but also not his job? He racked his brain to try and figure out what they might have been suggesting.

_SR: I’d say that it would be nice? If I knew what you were talking about, of course._

_Y/N: First, how old are you?_

_SR: I’m Thirty-Nine years old._

_Y/N: woah. A ot different than the people i usually do this with._

_Y/N: sugar daddies are oftentimes ugly and bald or silver foxes._

_Y/N: i’m 27_

_SR: Are you trying to make me into your ‘Sugar Daddy?’_

_SR: I think you’re a bit too young for me._

_Y/N: nope, just want you to take me out on a date in exchange for how i’d normally act with a sugar daddy. information, field research._

_Y/N: also i’m insulted. My brain was fully developed around 25 and my impulse control works perfectly fine, ty very much. 12 years isnt that bad. ive had 60 yr old sugar daddies_

_SR: A date?_

_SR: I stand corrected. Though I already knew the brain’s age of full development. It should be noted that I graduated from highschool when I was 12, which is likely the year you were born._

_Y/N: yeah youre a lot different than my normal. I dont think i mind_

_Y/N: wait that depends on if youre attractive or not_

Well there goes the date. In Spencer’s opinion, he was not attractive. He was nerdy, a dork, and while Penelope had told him that he’d grown into his height, he still felt lanky. 

_SR: I’m not exactly sure. I was told that the reason some people audit my class is because I’m attractive, though?_

_Y/N: wait,,, class?_

_Y/N: ,,,,,,,, i know why your name sounded familiar. youre that one professor who gave everyone a’s because you got your fbi job back._

_Y/N: dont you teach a class like once every few months?_

_SR: Here I was hoping that I would be able to not talk about my job. Yes, that is me and yes I do._

_Y/N: oh m not gonna make you talk about your job. i know who you are and youre definitely attractive_

_Y/N: my friend took you class and sent a pic of you and i kinda like thirsted over you after he sent a few minute vid of you teaching._

_SR: Thank you?_

_Y/N: Anyway not gonna tell you who._

Spencer distinctly remembered who their friend was and felt himself die a bit inside, he had told them to put their phone away. Y/n was friends with the person he called a _hooligan_ for keeping their phone out during class. Now he knows why they had their phone out.

_SR: Would you still like to go on that date? We can forget that I technically used to teach your friend._

_Y/N: dude i was totally staring at your ass when he sent the vid in what would would i *not* want to go on a date with you? plus since it's your field research, youre paying :)_

_SR: I’m oddly flattered. How does Saturday night, 6 PM work for you? I was already under the assumption I would pay._

There was a movie he wanted to see on Saturday. He already had two tickets and then afterwards they could go out to eat. 

_Y/N: sounds great. Im guessing it’s a surprise?_

_SR: Yes._

_SR: I’m hoping we can stay in touch and talk more before the date?_

_Y/N: of course. i still need to learn who you are. considering that i have ‘no idea’ who spencer reid_

_SR: I have to do work but I’ll be sure to text you later._

_Y/N: k! bye bye_

_SR: Bye._

Hours later when Spencer read over the messages it finally hit him. By a technicality he was now a Sugar Daddy and had a date on Saturday. Holy shit. He then realized he had no idea what Y/n looked like and hoped that they were attractive. It’d be embarrassing if they went through the trouble of going on a date with Spencer only for him to have to not pay attention the whole time. Something told Spencer that they were attractive, though, whether it be on the inside or the outside—he believed it to be both. 

* * *

_What’s your favorite color?_ Y/n asked him on Wednesday. He didn’t have to think about his answer. 

_SR: Definitely purple. It used to be a color associated with royalty because it took 9,000 mollusks to make a single gram of “Tyrian Purple.”_

_Y/N: purple’s a great color, im partial to a lilac purple. i prefer cyan though_

Spencer smiled. Deciding to tease them a bit, he said:

_SR: Cyan is just a name for sky blue, yes?_

_Y/N: the first time i see you i am going to punch you._

_Y/N: theyre so different. visually cyan is neither blue nor green, but a mix, even though its so much more complex._

_Y/N: cyan and blues wavelengths overlap, yes, but very little. cyan: 490–520 nm and blue: 450-495 nm. green and cyan overlap way more with green spanning 495–570 nanometers meaning that they’d be better compared._

_Y/N: plus then you need to take into account saturation/opacity. a vivid cyan is still cyan when only 50% opac. so theres no reason for blue to be called cyan_

_Y/N: sorry, i info dumped didn’t i?_

_SR: Don’t be. It’s kind of adorable. Red, yellow, and blue are still the primary colors, though, right?_ _  
_ _Y/N: i feel like you want me to be mad._

_Y/N: red can be made with a mixture of magenta (which is actually a made up color) and yellow. Blue can be made using cyan and magenta. green is also way prettier with cyan and yellow. thats why printers use cmyk (cyan, magenta, yellow, blac*k*)_

_Y/N: i feel like you’re trying to make me info dump on purpose_

_SR: Yeah, I am. Tell me about how magenta is made up?_

_Y/N: I’d rather call you to tell you. is that okay?_

_SR: Um, yeah. That works._

Knowing that the call was coming didn’t stop him from being scared when it finally came. Spencer was also a bit scared at how fast he found himself getting a crush on them. He clicked the green button and raised his phone to his ear. Tentatively he said, “Hello.”

“Hi!” Y/n answered. Spencer finds their voice oddly attractive and finds that it fits the way that they typed. 

“Hi,” Spencer says back, dumbly. His lips purse as they bring the information hre already knows to the front of his mind, but ignores it. He’s eager to hear how their voices will change when talking about something they care about. “So how does magenta have the ability to be both a primary color and not a real color at all?”

He can practically feel their smile through the phone. “Okay, so magenta is also known as purple. Kinda, it's like a very vivid purple but also a vivid not-purple? Anyway it doesn’t have a corresponding wavelength. Every other color has one _except_ magenta. That’s why it’s so hard to find purple in nature.”

Their voice rose a pitch and took on an informative edge that hid underlying excitement. Spencer wondered if this was how he sounded in the past while talking about murder or some other greuling statistic. Strange, how things that once might have made him light up now do almost the opposite. He cleared his head to try and match Y/n’s optimism. “How does it not have a wavelength?”

“Oh, that’s fun. It deals with the eyes. In the eyes there are three color receptor thinga-majigs. They react to red, green, and blue cones. In that order, actually. Yellow is when the green and red cones fire, cyan is when the blue and green cones fire, etc. You get the point,” the phone receiver crackled as they took a breath. “When looking at magenta the red and blue cones fire, so what's between them would be green, right? Wrong! The green cone isn’t firing, so it makes up a color. Therefore, Magenta doesn’t exist.”

Y/n said everything in such a surefire way that for a moment Spencer forgot that this wasn’t the first time he’d learned this information. “Well now I’m out of ideas of what to ask you about.”

They giggled and Spencer’s heart skipped a beat, “Hmm. What's your opinion on the world colonel?” 

Spencer faux frowned as if Y/n could see him. “Like the popcorn?”

“No, though I get the confusion. Colonel is the one with ‘ _L’_ s’ despite it looking like it should be the same word as colonial,” their voice trailed off. “Hey, Spencer?”

He’s caught off guard with how much he likes how they say his name. “Yeah?”

“If you want me to talk you could’ve just asked. No need to pretend that you don’t know.” Spencer smiled sheepishly through the phone. 

“Sorry,” he said in a low and quiet voice. “I’ve been told that I become an idiot when talking to people, so I took an easy route. If you want to hang up, that’s fine, but I’d like to keep listening to your voice.”

“If it makes ya’ feel any better I’d like to continue listening to your voice, too.” Spencer took a deep breath in and sighed.

“What do you wanna talk about?” Spencer felt panic rise that they had lost ideas of what to converse between themselves about. 

“Hm. There’s so much on my mind that it’s hard to choose. How about your favorite book?” Spencer smiled at that. His favorite book was an easy one, so he said loud and proud, _‘The Illustrated Man.’_ Y.n didn’t ridicule him for the fact that they had never read it any instead expressed interest in what it was about. 

“A man has tattoos on his skin that at night come alive to tell stories. What’s your favorite book?” he mused into the receiver. Y/n laughed.

“I suppose it’s a bit childish, but I’ve always loved _The Little Prince.”_ Spencer's brows furrowed. He was familiar with the book and why it might have been their favorite but asked why anyway. 

“The meaning changes every time. One read and you’re overwhelmed by how much it means, two reads and you focus on the wrong thing, three and you find one of the blatant meanings, and so on. It’s hard to become bored when a mind is so active.” Y/n sighed. “I suppose that not many people share the same sentiment. They must have just grown up too much.”

Spencer leaned back against his headboard. “And have you not grown up?”

Y/n scoffed. “Of course I have grown up. I have just never forgotten what it meant to be a kid. My mind holds things of great importance but knows that it is the things of little to no importance that hold the meaning of life.”

He closed his eyes and let himself drift into a serene place where they were the only two people in the world. He created a version of them in his head that was incomplete, but perfect. He didn’t waste his time on the color of their eyes or hair, instead his mind painted a picture of their soul. Spencer’s lips curled with a tease, “ _Does_ life have any meaning?”

Y/n angrily gasped, “Spencer Reid you take that back or I really _will_ hit you!”

He laughed and felt more carefree than he had in a longtime—since prison, he thinks pitifully. “Okay, okay, don’t hurt me! I promise to not be cynical.”

“Pinkie promise?” 

“My pinkie finger is out, my toes and all my fingers are uncrossed.”

“Okay.” 

Their conversation drifted and flowed like a stream till Spencer realized the time as Y/n yawned. He relayed the information to Y/n who sleepily said an _‘okay.’_

“G’night, Spencer.” 

He smiles into the phone. His heart is as free as a hummingbird and flutters just as fast. “Good night, Y/n.”


	2. a 'normal' date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for such a positive response to the first chapter! i'm exited to say that this is pretty easy to write: the words just flow. I'm super excited for what I have planned. Enjoy, my loves!!
> 
> cw: brief mention of vague dirty/inappropriate thoughts

The want to check his phone was not based on any real need. Spencer knew that he had the right address. It was just a worry. Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat as his hands tightened around the wheel. It was five twenty-three. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Five twenty-four. Spencer opened his door and walked to the building's entrance. There were only two flights of stairs. Five twenty-nine. 

Five-thirty— he knocked on the door number 33. Anxiety pooled in Spencer’s gut. He’d only known Y/n for a day under a week, why did he think a date was a good idea? In fact, he’d only known Y/n for thirty-three minutes before agreeing for a date. 

_ It’s just field research,  _ he told himself. That didn’t stop his mouth from drying when the door opened. Five thirty-two. The person on the other side smiled. They were dressed moderately nice, perfect for something simple or something fancy. 

“Hello, Doctor Spencer Reid, “ Y/n said. They didn’t make a move to shake his hand. His reputation must have preceded him. 

His lips flatten into a straight line to hide the smile on his face caused by the giddy feeling replacing the anxiety. “Hi. Y/n, I presume?”

Their laugh is much prettier in person, Spencer notes. “Yep, you have the right person. Let me grab my phone and we can go!” 

They duck back into their apartment and Spencer awkwardly stands by the door. He gulps as his eyes trail down their figure. They return in front of him and Spencer quickly meets their eyes. 

A small brown blob tries to dart out the door but Y/n quickly scoops it up into their ams. It’s a chocolate brown kitten. It mews at Y/n and Spencer sees big blue eyes peer up at him. Y/n holds the cat close, “Spencer meet Hot Cocoa, Cocoa meet Spencer.”

“Hot Cocoa?”

Y/n giggled and nodded for Spencer to reach out and pet the wriggling mass. He did so and was rewarded with soft purrs. Five fourty-four. “Her ears, as you can see, are a way lighter brown than her body. Like a marshmallow. So she’s my cup of Hot Cocoa.”

Any nerves he might have continued to feel disappeared as Y/n moved his stationary fingers to continue gently rubbing the kitten’s head. Their touch was light but powerful and shook Spencer to his core. Spencer realized that he hadn’t said anything in a while and smiled up at Y/n, “It’s a cute name. It fits her—she’s tiny, but warm.”

The kitten jumped from Y/n’s arms to clumsily pounce onto Spencer’s shoes. Apparently he shifted his foot and moved a shoelace. The kitten batted at the aglet and dug one of it’s paws into the well worn fabric of Spencer’s converse. Y/n leaned down to grab Cocoa at the same time Spencer did. Their heads knocked into each other. 

Looking into Y/n’s eyes granted him a beautiful sight. The soul he had designed in his mind to liken the person was reflected back at him. The accuracy in which he had profiled them scared Spencer. How had he known that they were beautiful on the outside if this was the first time they’d met face to face? Could what he had done been classified as profiling, or was it just him being a creep?

Spencer realized that he had been staring for far too long and cleared his throat. Warm flush spread from the back of his neck to his ears. He stood up and waited for Y/n to set the kitten down and close the door to stop it’s escape before he held out his arm. “Are you ready to go?”

Y/n interlocked their arm with his, “Such a Gentleman. Yes, I am ready to go.”

When Spencer and Y/n reached the car, Y/n stopped to laugh. Spencer did not understand what was funny. He asked them about it once they were on the road. 

“Err. Well, you drive a  _ 1965 volvo 122s amazon,  _ it surprised me because it was almost exactly what I pictured.”

That awoke more questions from Spencer. One of the ones he did ask was, “Do you know a lot about cars?”

Y/n hummed, looking over at him. He kept his eyes on the road. Not daring to look more than through his peripherals. “My uncle was a backyard mechanic, of sorts. I heard him talking about different cars and would look them up in the library.”

One question he didn’t ask stayed on his mind periodically. 

_ Have you thought as much about me this week, as I have thought about you? _

He didn’t dare say it and chose a different—safer route. “Did you research a lot? I used to do almost the same thing. Of course I was finding every book I could about math and physics instead of cars.”

Spencer dares to look over at Y/n. He finds that they are looking out the window almost longingly. “I suppose. The library was a fun place, so I read a lot and researched a lot about cars. No books could ever capture my mind as intensely as  _ Anne of Green Gables  _ and  _ Pride and Prejudice,  _ though.”

“It was the same with me. I also went to the park and played chess as a kid.”

Y/n’s eyes shot over to him. The expression that laid there was pure, childlike excitement. “You know chess?”

He nodded and continued to ignore the questions that rapidly were made in his brain.  _ Were you alone as a kid, too? Of the two, which were your favorite? Would you care if I asked to go on another date, even though this one hasn’t even begun? _

“Yep.” Spencer smiles and taps his fingers on the steering wheel. Turn right. “I’m a genius, so It’d be odd if I couldn’t. Do you?” 

“Nope,” they popped the ‘ _ p’  _ much stronger than Spencer had. “I want to. I guess I just have this stupid fear that I’ll be so horrifically bad that whoever teaches me will hate me forever.”

“It’s not stupid!” he assured. The opportunity to see Y/n again arose and he took it. “I could teach you? If you’d like.”

A breathtakingly beautiful grin stretched across Y/n’s face. Spencer’s heart stopped and pounded in his ears at the same time. 

“If this date goes well, I’d love too. Speaking of this date: where are we going?” Spencer debated telling them.

“I had a movie and dinner planned, but decided it was too in my ‘normal.’ So I chose something different.” he paused. “Sort of. You’ll see.”

Spencer turned onto the last drive and started to pull into the parking lot. Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. “An Aquarium?”

He nodded and parked. Luckily it was late and so not many people were there. The Aquarium closed at eight thirty. It was currently six ten. They would have plenty of time for most exhibits. 

“The Aquarium has animals. Animals that hold could hold bacteria. Bacteria that could—given the right opportunity— kill me.”

Spencer didn’t bother saying that Prison had made it to where germs were the least of his problems or worries. It was only their first date, after all.

“Ah,” Y/n sighs while unbuckling their seatbelt. “Anadiplosis at it’s finest.”

A soft smile fell on his face at the word. Not many people cared to learn about the different names of the figures of speech. Y/n seemed  _ perfect _ . In a way that would kill Spencer. After all, they weren’t on a real date. It was just an experiment—an opportunity to observe. An itching feeling told him that this likely wasn’t how Y/n normally acted with ‘Sugar Daddies’ but he ignored it and followed Y/n in getting out of the car. 

“Now,” Y/n said with a smile, “Let’s go see some future sushi.”

* * *

“I think this is the best food I’ve ever had.” Y/n said while taking a bite of their food. Spencer was glad that they enjoyed the meal. He didn’t often go out to eat at fancy places. Oftentimes dinner was takeout from his favorite chinese restaurant. 

“One of my coworkers—David Rossi— made that same dish for a team dinner. I hope that you’re lucky enough to have it as good.” Spencer had no idea what to say after that and kept his mouth shut. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind the silence. 

“I’ve told you about  _ my _ favorite books, but you haven’t given me the same pleasure.” Spencer sipped on his wine at the question. He did distinctly remember talking to them about  _ The Illustrated Man. _

“I told you about one of my favorites. Though, I should be more clear: my  _ real  _ favorite book is  _ The Sign of The Four.” _

Y/n sighed deeply, raising their glass to their lips. “Sherlock Holmes. It’s rumored that the first usage of the word  _ ‘Fandom’  _ is because of the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes and leaned in close to them. “That’s not true.”

They laughed, “No. No it’s not. It could be, though! It was first thought to be used in 1903, so there’s always a chance.”

The conversation continues. Spencer knows he should be listening harder, asking better questions, or giving better answers—but he can’t. Yes, his body is physically at the table and he is retaining all of the information. That doesn’t mean that his mind is there. No, his mind is still in the aquarium. 

Spencer is rewatching how Y/n’s eyes light up as a shark swims toward the glass and then swoops back up. His hand, although now touching his fork, still feels the warmth of Y/n’s hand in his. When they’ve both finished eating, Spencer requests the check and is happy that there’s no qualms from Y/n about it. It seems as though that’s one thing that might be similar to a date with a Sugar Daddy. 

As they walk back to the car Spencer finds himself thinking about his favorite part of the night. 

Y/n had dragged him to the exhibition full of the brightest and most fish. They marveled and pressed their palms flat against the glass, Y/n’s cheek would leave an imprint on the glass. Y/n told Spencer to move closer for a better look, unknowingly inviting him to press his chest against their back. Spencer’s hands wrapped around Y/n’s waist, not too high and not too low—he would never do anything to make them uncomfortable.

He’d then looked out into the exhibit and recited what he knew about the fish that resided in the aquarium. 

What had made it his favorite part of the night wasn’t the closeness—though that did add to it— it was the fact that Y/n  _ trusted  _ him enough to let him close. Trust was something that Spencer had been wary of after prison. 

He rarely trusted anyone anymore and was trusted by other people even less now that he had been convicted, even if falsely, for murder. He truly and deeply was thankful for Y/n for trusting him, even if on such a basic level. 

Spencer opened the door for Y/n and got the remark that he was, ‘ _ Such a Gentleman.’  _ The things that ran through his mind were the opposite of what a Gentleman was. 

A gentleman wouldn’t dare think such crude thoughts about Y/n. If he were the Gentleman that Y/n believed he was, then the past idea of pinning them against the glass would never have crossed—or lingered— on his mind. Spencer wouldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy the fake imagery that his mind provided of him doing just that, but he also found himself wanting to punch himself. The things his mind had conjured were  _ sick _ and yet he found himself enjoying the idea of them. 

Spencer sat in the car. The silence was deafening but just as comfortable as before. Y/n looked over at Spencer and he could tell there was something on their mind.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured into the darkness. His fingers didn’t move to put the key in, too afraid that the rumble of the engine would ruin the environment. 

“It’s nine fifty-five. I have to make a call.”

Spencer’s brows furrowed. “That’s fine. You can step out, or I can?”

Y/n shook their head, “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll still just go to voicemail.”

Nine fifty-seven: Y/n clicks the call button. Their earbuds are already in and Spencer can see a sort of sad resignation pass over their face. “It’s the last minute. I’ve exhausted everything I can. I miss you. I love you. Come home, Tristan.” 

Their voice is almost overtaken by a sadness that lingers far longer than when they stop talking. Nine fifty-nine: Y/n hangs up. Their eyes glaze over and they laugh. 

“I’m sorry. What a horrible end to a date, huh?” 

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks instead of telling Y/n that it was or wasn’t a horrible end. He simply didn’t know. 

“No, I guess not.” Y/n sighs and Spencer starts up the car, “My brother, he’s been missing for 59 weeks. Every week on Saturday I call him. Only during hour 21.”

Spencer was confused and concerned. He understands the calling someone who’s gone, but the ritualistic and almost impulsive calling seemed odd. He wasn’t one to judge, though.

“I’m very sorry. Is there a reason for 2100 to be the only hour?” Spencer asked, unable to hide his curiosity. He sincerely believed that Y/n was going to punch him for being a douchebag. 

“Tristan said that the best thing to ever happen to him, happened on Saturday at Nine P.M.” Y/n smiles and Spencer pulls out of the Parking Lot. “I was born on a Saturday at Nine P.M. So it was him becoming a big brother, I guess.”

He smiled at Y/n to make them feel better. “That’s sweet. I hope that you see him again.”

Spencer didn’t say statistics about the missing people who came home, Y/n didn’t need facts, they needed someone to care. And although Spencer knew nothing about most people’s feelings, he had a nagging feeling that Y/n wanted some physical comfort. Spencer held his hand out without a word and smiled when their hand intertwined with his. It only lasts five minutes till Spencer has to move his hand back to the stick—curse his car for stopping their hand holding! 

He understands it, though, it  _ is  _ a bit weird to hold hands on a first date.

The drive was quiet and smooth. Traffic wasn't too bad and the clouds had finally relinquished to the shine of the stars. It was almost poetic; the way they twinkled brightly in the night and the glow of the Moon—in her almighty glory— fell through the open window and onto Y/n’s lashes and cheeks. Spencer found it odd that their eyes were closed, until he realized Y/n was asleep, that is. He smiled and draped his jacket over them.

Spencer hoped that their nights and dreams were calmer and sweeter than his. 

When waking Y/n up, Spencer lightly tapped on their arm. Thay had only been asleep for twenty minutes, so they would not feel even more tired due to an interrupted REM cycle. If they had slept for longer thirty, Spencer is ashamed to say that he would’ve sat in his car to let them sleep the full ninety minutes. 

Y/n awakens with a sigh and looks over to Spencer and then at their surroundings. They close their eyes before looking back to Spencer, “I’m so sorry: Did I fall asleep?”

Spencer nodded. “It’s okay, you...looked like you could use a bit of rest.”

It wasn’t a lie, Y/n did look tired. It just wasn’t the whole truth. The truth was that Spencer didn’t mind them sleeping because it meant they felt safe. Spencer  _ wanted  _ someone to feel safe around him. He felt like he wouldn’t mind finding comfort in Y/n. 

Spencer wanted to be Y/n’s Sugar Daddy, and that revelation scared the shit out of him.

He would love to lavish and pamper them with whatever they wanted—he rarely spent money and had plenty to use. In return he would be able to find peace with someone, even if only in the form of basic and semi-platonic intimacy. To Spencer, the entire idea sounded like heaven.

The two of them made their way into the building. The elevator ride to Y/n’s loft was singed with electricity that flowed to Spencer from Y/n’s direction. Either a wire was loose, or Y/n wanted Spencer’s touch as much as Spencer wanted to touch Y/n.

_ Bad, _ he told himself.  _ You said you were getting better. Wanting to grope your date in an elevator is not it! _

Their knuckles brushed together as the doors opened and Spencer would give anything to have reached out and grabbed their hand. Y/n stops at their door and looks up to Spencer. He hopes that he’s not imagining the slight look of sadness and lingering hope residing there. 

“This is me,” they whisper but it’s futile—Spencer knows this is where they live. 

“Alright,” he says with a quick smile. Spencer goes to turn away but Y/n calls out to him with a  _ ‘Wait!’ _

Spencer can’t stop himself. When he turns around he pushes forward to smash his lips to Y/n’s. His tongue traces the seam of their mouth before deepening the kiss. Y/n gasps into his mouth and Spencer is using his hips to pin theirs to the door—seeing as his hands are in use to cradle Y/n’s face in his hands.

Their lips are soft against his and taste faintly of the strawberry chapstick he’d seen them applying throughout their date. Y/n kisses quietly, like they want to be hushed whispers on a rainy day. Spencer is the opposite. He knows how he kisses. He can  _ feel  _ himself practically devouring the other party. They don’t complain though. 

When Y/n needs to breathe they push Spencer away with their palm. Spencer doesn’t notice that they’re pushing away at first, by then he has to force himself to break away. 

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. He isn’t sorry. Spencer backs up to give Y/n space, just in case. His phone pings and he already knows it’s a case. Spencer looks towards Y/n.

Y/n smiles at him, unlocking their door and backing up into it slightly. They bite down on their bottom lip with a grin, it seems that they already know that his work is calling for him. “I’ll text you about that second date. Good night, Spencer Reid.”

“Good night, Y/n,” he says but the door is already closed. 

Spencer is so,  _ so  _ fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, kisses, right?


	3. coffee and the stream

Spencer sits in his car and picks up the phone. He’s only a consultant on cases during his sabbaticals, so he has no need to physically be on cases.

“Hello, Emily,” he says into the phone, already just a bit annoyed. Moreso at himself, than the person calling him. Spencer had just  _ pinned  _ Y/n to the door. Then while doing so thought about moving his hand from their cheek to loosely wrap around their throat. He wasn’t getting better. Sure, he didn’t want his actions to cause bodily harm and he would never do something like that without consent, but he told his therapist that he didn’t want to hurt anyone. 

He’d admitted to choking Cat and how much he’d hated himself for it. He  _ hadn’t  _ admitted that he wanted to choke someone in bed. Spencer had spent a lot of time researching things like that for his job. Some of them had made him feel weirder than others.

Later, Spencer realized that the weirdness he felt was because he was  _ attracted  _ to the idea’s and words. Some of the things he researched would pop up porn and then he would watch and enjoy it. Things would lead to other things and he would find himself learning how to safely tie up partners as well as how to safely choke others.  _ Just research _ , is what he would tell himself. Then again, that’s what he told himself this time, too.

The conversation is quick and he gives his insights. Then he goes home and collapses onto his bed. 

There he stares at the ceiling. He isn’t looking, though. Again his mind is thinking about Y/n. The kiss had pressed his body close to theirs and so his mind was focusing on that. Remembering how their legs felt around his thigh—oh no. He is only just now realizing that he’d done that. On a  _ first date.  _ Y/n didn’t seem like they minded, he glanced at his phone and picked it up. Awaiting him was a message.

_ Y/N: i had fun today _

_ Y/N: i didnt treat you like i would a sugar daddy tho. my bad _

Spencer smiled, forgetting his woes and already typing a reply.

_ S.R: I didn’t think so. How did you treat me, then? _

_ Y/N: the way that i might treat someone on any other date _

_ S.R: Is that something you would be interested in, another ‘‘normal’ date? _

Spencer set his phone down as he changed his clothes. He didn’t bother with a shower, it was already too late. It buzzed on his nightstand with a notification.

_ Y/N: hm,,, is being a sugar daddy something  _ you _ would be interested in? _

He knew the answer but paused anyway, to take a deep breath and think rationally. 

Spencer had the funds. He’d already admitted to himself that he wants to lavish Y/n with gifts and things, so why is he so nervous to admit the truth? If he did say yes, what would it mean?

Would the two of them… be together? Or would they just go on dates and kiss with just the Sugar Daddy and Sugar Baby label? Would they even kiss? Did Y/n only let him kiss them because they wanted it to be a more normal date?

Questions raced through his mind but he couldn't find an answer to them. The only way he could get answers would be through his phone. With another deep breath to calm his nerves, Spencer answered.

_ S.R: Yes. More than you might think, actually. _

_ Y/N: good :) _

_ Y/N: we’ll talk about this more tmrw. sweet dreams, spencer _

The air he'd unconsciuosly had been holding was released in a relieved huff. He smiled down at his phone. 

_ S.R: Sweet dreams, Y/n _

* * *

He often found himself enjoying teaching more than someone might think. Sure, Spencer enjoyed the field and hands-on saving lives, but in a way he was almost passing on the torch and burden he had held for so long. Essentially, the people he taught would more-or less be the next strong of profilers or agents. Spencer was making a difference, even during his mandatory relaxation periods. 

That didn’t mean that he wouldn’t still itch for more than helping over the phone, of course. Luckily Spencer had heard that their cases were not too bad and for the most part found himself letting teaching become important to him. Helping his students with questions, watching all of their eyes light up at all the information—yes, it’s often morbid or about sadism, but the point stands. 

Currently, Spencer was more than excited to wrap up his presentation and assign readings. Y/n’s message still rang throughout his brain as he rushed to grab his files to shove them into his bag. During that time a few students wandered into his office to ask him questions. Of course he wouldn’t be rude. He politely answered their questions before excusing himself. 

As fast as he could, Spencer made his way to the cafe down the street from the university he taught at. He catches the open door and makes his way in. His eyes scanned the room before falling onto Y/n. They sat in the corner with their back to the wall. They sipped on a coffee and moved the stylus in the hand onto the screen in their lap. If Spencer could see better, he’d have known what they were drawing. But as Spencer walked up, Y/n closed the case to the ipad. 

“Hello,” he said with a soft smile. Y/n grinned back at him and waved for Spencer to sit down across from them. 

“Hi. Sorry I didn't get you a coffee, I don’t know your preferences or if it would be cold _or_ hot by the time you got here.” 

“It’s fine!” Spencer assured with a soft smile and tight brows. “I’ll go grab myself a coffee, maybe we can walk in the park across the street, after?”

Y/n nodded. “I can stand with you, I was just sitting to wait, anyway.”

Y/n slid their ipad into a backpack and started walking ahead of Spencer. He followed and then stopped in front of the counter, lightly drumming his fingers on the edge. The barista walked up and Spencer quickly gave her his coffee order. 

“How’s your day going?” Y/n asked him. Spencer half shrugged, not noticing how the barista twirled her hair around a finger while tapping his order into the register.

“Everyone has been very observant and have written down their notes, for the most part. I also had a good night's sleep, so it’s all good…” Spencer trailed off—not wanting to say too much. 

Y/n hums and Spencer quickly pulls out his wallet to swipe his credit card through the machine. He’d forgotten to grab paper money that morning. The barista tried to command his attention but Spencer was too focused on Y/n.

“You miss your job, huh?” 

Spencer nodded and quickly grabbed his to-go cup off of the counter, smiling a quick thank you at the barista, who only scoffed and went to take other orders. When they made it to the park, Spencer smiled at the fact that Y/n had to actively think about how fast they were walking to keep in pace with him. It was funny because  _ he  _ was already slowing down for them. His legs were much longer than theirs, after all. 

“I like my time away, I do, but I also sometimes want to see them. They  _ are  _ my family.” Spencer sighed and sat down at a park bench, taking a moment to watch the subtle changes in Y/n’s expression. Any profiling that came from it was unintentional. He was merely admiring them, really. Yes, he noticed that they were slightly concerned for him, but he was really paying attention to the sparkle in their eyes that commanded him to spill everything. It wasn’t a glint of mischief; it was a star. Bright, beautiful, and pulling him like a planet was pulled to the star at the center of it’s solar system. A delicate balance that he was more than happy to comply with.

“Hm. I think you need something to take your mind off of work. FBI and teaching.”

Without his acknowledgement, Spencer’s hand reached out to clasp Y/n’s. “What did you have in mind?”

Y/n smiled and used his hand to pull him up. “Cmon, follow me.”

He did. Despite his mind screaming at him that he was a FBI agent and knows better to follow someone into the woods. The park relented to trees and soon Spencer and Y/n were in the middle of nowhere, luckily Spencer memorized the directions they walked just in case.

“Are you trying to take me somewhere and kill me?” Spencer asked with a slight smirk. Y/n punched his arm lightly. 

“You wish!” Y/n chuckled. “We’re almost there, I promise.” 

Four minutes later the trees disappeared and they were left in a clearing. A stream cut a line through the space near the opposite edge. Y/n breathed a sigh of relief and jogged into the middle to spin. 

“Do you hear that?” they joyfully said.’

“No.” he said, just loud enough for Y/n to hear. Spencer walked into the clearing, his fingers skimmed the longer patches of weeds and the occasional bunch of flowers. Y/n sat down in a flattened part of the grass, where it seemed that they had sat there many times. Spencer stood awkwardly. “Am I supposed to hear something?”

“No,” they answered with a grin while patting for Spencer to sit down next to him. With a deep breath he sat down, his mind fully aware of the dirt now clinging to his pants. 

“It’s the silence,” Y/n says at last. Their voice is a murmur and Spencer watches as they look towards the sky with admiration. He’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad. Y/n’s eyes move from the clouds to glance at Spencer and his heart stops. When it restarts he’s already pressing a deep kiss to Y/n’s lips. His hand is moving to wrap around Y/n and bring them closer. He burns red hot and only cools by touching them. 

Spencer pulls them onto his lap and moves his hands to their hips. Y/n moans into the kiss and Spencer breaks away to then dive back again. One of his hands slips under their shirt to press against their bare skin. His palm feels something that feels almost like scar tissue and so he moves his hand to a different place, not wanting to make Y/n uncomfortable. 

Y/n hums against his lips and pulls away, “I think that’s the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

Spencer clicks his tongue and can’t stop the self deprecating joke that flits through his lips, “I feel bad for the people you’ve kissed.”

Y/n rolls their eyes and moves so that they’re sitting fully on his lap. Spencer is  _ so  _ grateful that just kissing doesn’t make him hard anymore like it did years ago, that would be embarrassing. “Seriously. You’re a  _ really  _ good kisser.” 

He smiled a sincere ‘thank you’ and looked towards the sky before sipping on his now cold coffee. They sat like that for twenty minutes. In that time, not once did Spencer think about anything other than Y/n’s hand in his and his lips on their lips. 

Y/n then suddenly jumped up and told Spencer to, again, follow them. Spencer found himself standing right by the stream. It’s bubbling water was a few inches from his feet. It wasn’t deep and from what Spencer could see there weren’t any animals in it. No crawdaddy's— craw _ fish _ — or the normal small fish. Hopefully that meant no leeches, especially since Y/n was now walking into the water and urging him to follow. 

Spencer rolled his eyes and took off his first shoe, balancing quickly to take off his sock and then wincing as his toes connected with the mud. 

Y/n, being impatient, pulled him by hand into the water. Oddly enough, Spencer didn’t mind it too much. The water was cool but not too cold and relaxed him. Yes, he was still hesitant to walk to where the water reached his mid calf, but did it anyway. Spencer realized that if Y/n asked, he’d follow them into lava with only mild worry.

“Hey, Spencer?” Y/n asked, he was already looking at them.

“Yes?”

“Give me your other hand, okay?” Spencer nodded and handed it to them. The light in their eye changed for a second to glint at him before he found himself falling into the water. He made an exacerbated sound before pulling Y/n down on top of him. 

“That wasn’t very nice!” he called out as Y/n laughed. “Now we’re all wet!”

Spencer glared at Y/n without any heat. Y/n rolled their eyes, “You’re having fun though right?”

Spencer nodded as an idea rolled into his head. With a smirk he flipped them. Y/n gasped as the water hit their back.

“Hey, hey! That’s cold!” Y/n didn’t seem to be too mad at it, though. In fact, they seemed to enjoy that Spencer was hovering above them. Their pupils were blown wide, swallowing the sparkle into the depths. Spencer slowly leaned forward to press a kiss against their lips. His forearms were covered with water from the fall and supporting Y/n so that they didn’t fall fully into the water, but he didn’t care.

Spencer groaned into the kiss as Y/n experimentally tugged on his hair. His clothes are soaked—sopping, even —they don’t bother him, though. What  _ bothers  _ him is the whine that slips between Y/n’s teeth as they grind their hips up into Spencer’s. Y/n pulls him away by his hair and Spencer has to fight back a whine. 

With a sigh Y/n moved from under him and to the spot they set their bags. They picked theirs up and said,“We should walk back to the park so that I can get home—it’s my night to cook.”

Spencer moved to his feet too and followed them into the dry land. “You have a roommate?”

“I have  _ three  _ roomates. It’s like  _ New Girl  _ in that loft.”

“Is that a movie?”

“Oh sweet little Spencer, I know what our next date is: Netflix… maybe, if you want, there can be some ‘chilling.’” Y/n pointedly looked away from him.

“I do not know what that last part means. Watching something sounds nice, though. I don’t have Netflix, though, so it’d be at your place.”

“Obviously. I have a popcorn maker, anyway.”

Spencer rolled his eyes and stepped into the park. He realized that they were about to part and smiled sweetly. “I’ll text you.”

“You better!” Y/n said, moving closer and raising their hand to guide Spencer down to kiss them. Spencer pulled away after a few moments to place two quick pecks on their lips. “I’ll see you, Spencer.” 

“Yeah,” he mumbled and walked away backwards, dripping water from his hair into the pavement and earning a loud laugh from Y/n as he almost tripped over his feet.

Y/n and Spencer had yet to talk about anything. If they were a couple, etc, but it was fine. Spencer is currently okay with kissing without a label. He didn't know how long he would be okay with that, though. 

_ Tomorrow,  _ he told himself,  _ I will ask them the dreaded question tomorrow.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a shorter than usual chapter! a lot of bad stuff irl is happening


	4. netflix date (and chill)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapters might be paced out a bit more! Sorry, guys. They still should be around 3k is words, though. I'm just looking out more for my own safety and mental health.
> 
> NSFW in this chapter. I won't tag after this chapter, just a heads up. This is a very smutty story (according to my outline) so there will be a lot of that.
> 
> Turn around now or read through! You've been warned.

Spencer did  _ not  _ ask them the next day. In fact, he didn’t decide to bring up anything near the topic until their Netflix date. Of which, Spencer had looked up beforehand. Apparently  _ Netflix and Chill  _ was a euphemism for sexual activity while Netflix was played in the background.

The idea made Spencer choke on his coffee but he wouldn’t say that the idea sounded unpleasant. If his cold shower had anything to say, he liked the idea quite a bit.

Y/n had quickly guided him from the living room and what he assumed to be the open area, into Y/n’s bedroom. 

“Kick off your shoes, get comfy.” Y/n said while opening the door for Spencer. He walked in and took off his shoes, for once happy that he’d decided to dress down. He was wearing one of his only hoodies and a pair of comfy pants. 

Y/n flopped onto their bed and looked up at Spencer expectantly. He quickly sat down next to them, giving Y/n a fair amount of space. Y/n rolled their eyes at Spencer and moved so that their back was against the headboard, all the while pulling on Spencer’s arm.

In their other hand was a remote controller that was currently opening netflix. “Whatcha wanna watch?”

Spencer hummed, he couldn’t see the summary of any of the titles, “I don’t know what’s good, you choose.”

“ _ New Girl  _ it is!” Y/n gleamed and clicked on a show. As the episode progressed, Spencer found himself retaining the information and character personalities but spent most of the time watching Y/n’s facial expressions. It was obvious that they had watched the show before, even though the excitement and emotions seemed to be as fresh as the first watch through—it was weirdly endearing. 

By the third episode Spencer and Y/n had moved close together, shifting so that they pressed against each other. By the fifth episode Spencer had wrapped his arms around Y/n’s waist and slid down, allowing Y/n’s hands and fingers ruffled and messed with his hair. 

It was then that Spencer spoke up in a quiet voice, knowing that waiting for the right time would just mean waiting forever. “What um, what are we?”

Y/n giggled and moved their head so that they were looking at Spencer upside down. “What do you want us to be?”

Spencer gulped, not knowing the answer. He did however, know that he wanted Y/n to be the one to choose so that they would be comfortable. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Unspoken was the thought that he’d be okay with anything as long as you were his and  _ only  _ his. Either that, or nothing between them at all. 

“What if I said I was only comfortable with a sugar relationship?” Y/n said with a smile that—due to their upside-down state— looked like a frown. 

With a hum Spencer knocked the tips of their noses together, “Then I would say that I could do that.”

“You sure you got the money?”

Spencer looked up, acting like he was calculating something, nodding to himself, “I can make do.”

He then became more serious, “What did your past Sugar daddies provide?”

Y/n rolled their eyes, “My past Sugar  _ Providers _ —I don’t discriminate— gave upwards of 300 bi-weekly.”

“Alright, I can do 400,” Spencer said, Y/n rolled their eyes. 

“Ha-ha, like anyone other than a rich white person could afford that.”

Spencer smiled teasingly, “Really, I could afford 500. I only ever buy books and such, also an FBI agent doesn’t make little scraps.”

Y/n’s eyes widened and they switched to right side up, the blood flowing back from their head, “I thought you being an agent was just a joke, my god. I’m dating a G-man.”

Spencer curled his lips, “A joke?”

Y/n sighed, “Everyone said you looked too skinny and weak to be FBI.”

A growl rose in Spencer’s throat and his eyes narrowed. He was more than done with people saying he was too weak to be in the BAU. Sure, he had failed all physical exams in the academy, but he’d made up for it by doing ample field work. Plus, he had gotten a 100 on his recent gun qualification. 

An idea flitted across his mind and before he could go through the pros and cons, he had already pinned Y/n to the bed. Spencer’s hand grasped Y/n’s wrists above him. 

Y/n’s eyes were wide, but Spencer noted that it wasn’t in fear. Rather, it seemed to be in anticipation and surprise.

Spencer softened slightly but didn’t move or release their hands, his nose traced a line from Y/n’s collarbone to their ear, “Easily,” he murmured, “I could easily show you how wrong they are.”

Y/n’s back arched into his hand with a whimper. Still, they tried to keep a strong front, “Then show me.”

He didn’t waste a single moment to pess a deep and searing kiss to their lips. Y/n tried to break from his grip on their wrists but failed. They huffed against Spencer’s lips and he chuckled back at them, moving from kissing their lips to sucking on their neck. Spencer’s hands wandered past the hem of their shirt to slide against the warmth of their back and sides.

Y/n’s legs wrapped around him, causing their hips to slot together. Spencer groaned at the friction, hands moving to Y/n’s hips and pushing them down to grind against him. 

“Spencer,” Y/n whines, their now free hands moving to grab at Spencer’s hair.

“What do you want, baby? Come on, use your words for me,” he said in response to Y/n’s wordless question. 

Y/n pouted, “Touch me!”

Spencer laughed while his fingers rubbed circles against Y/n’s waist, “I  _ am  _ touching you.”

“Not like that,” Y/n groaned. “I want you to fuck me!”

With a smile Spencer pulled off his shirt and said with a coo, “You only had to ask,  bumblebee.”

Then he worked on pulling off Y/n’s shirt, eyes not hiding how they hungrily gazed at the skin exposed to him. The T.V. was still playing so he quickly shut it off before attaching his mouth to Y/n’s nipple. He licked, sucked, and lightly nipped at it before switching his attention over to the other one.

Slowly Spencer works on trailing down their stomach, brushing his lips against the place where their skin meets fabric. Y/n moves to pull off their own pants, but Spencer does it for them. Spencer licks his lips while looking into Y/n’s eyes with a smirk before biting down harshly on their thigh, a cross between a whimper and a moan leaves Y/n’s lips. Spencer presses a kiss to the area before continuing to place wet, hot kisses up their thigh. Quickly, he moved, earning an angry huff from Y/n. His lips latched onto the other side, licking the spot where their right leg joined their hips. 

Y/n tugged on his hair and Spencer had to take a deep breath and stop for a moment. He rutted against the bed slightly to relieve some of the pressure straining against his pants. Spencer chuckled as Y/n tried to guide him, but allowed them to do so. He licked a long stripe up to Y/n’s clit, smiling at the sounds that float from Y/n’s lips and into the air. 

“Shit,” they say, “I thought I asked you to fuck me?”

Spencer clicked his tongue, “So impatient, I’m getting to that.”

Y/n whined and clamped their legs together to block Spencer. “Just get in me. There’s a condom in my bedside table. ‘M on birth control, too.”

Spencer sighed, tugging off his pants and boxers, somewhat relieved at the loss of some of the pressure. He was disappointed that he only barely got to taste Y/n, though. They were delicious and Spencer was  _ hungry.  _ He could wait though, right now he was more focused on finding the little plastic square. He found it and looked down at Y/n, who was blushing. “Your condoms glow in the dark and are red?”

Y/n shook their head, “I didn’t buy them. When I told Milo you were coming over he threw two at me.”

Spencer laughed and carefully opened the package, taking out the little rubber to roll it down his length. He saw Y/n gulp and asked why, earning himself a very flustered, “Well, it’s just, you’re a lot  _ bigger  _ than anyone I’ve ever been with.”

Spencer mouthed an ‘oh’ before placing a quick kiss on their lips, “It’s fine, I’ll be gentle.”

Y/n rolled their eyes, “I don’t want you to be gentle. I want you to  _ ruin  _ me.”

Spencer chuckled, “You’re gonna regret saying that.” Then he, in one motion lined himself up and thrusted in. He wasn’t a monster, though, and gave Y/n ample time to adjust.

After a few moments had passed, Y/n nodded an okay for him to move. Spencer started slow, but he wasn’t gentle. His fingers would definitely leave bruises on their hips with how hard he grabbed them. Y/n dug their nails into his back, as if holding on for dear life.

“Do you always do this?” Spencer growled, picking up pace till he was slamming into Y/n so hard the bed shook. “Have sex with your Sugar Daddies after telling them that’s what you  _ didn’t  _ do?”

Y/n whined, eyes rolling back into their head, “N-no. Only you.”

Spencer huffed a quick laugh, “Only me? That’s right, little one. Only  _ I  _ get to fuck you like this.”

“Only you!” Y/n repeated like a lifeline.

One of his hands moved ro rub against Y/n’s clit and his head moved so that he could press more kisses to their lips. Y/n clenched around him and he pulled back with a groan, “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“Same,” Y/n pants out between moans, “faster.”

Spencer complies with a smile and a moan, his hips slamming into Y/n’s and his face pressing in the crook of their neck. His arm moved to wrap around Y/n and pull them close—as close as he could till they were skin to skin everywhere. Spencer’s lips peppered kisses on their throat. Y/n came with a shout, dragging their nails down    
Spencer’s back and left a trail of pain that went unnoticed as Spencer worked on chasing his own relief. 

Chest heaving and legs growing weak, Spencer carefully pulled out. He tied and threw the condom into the bin and laid beside Y/n. 

Y/n happily sighed and cuddled into the warmth of his chest, speaking a quiet and giggly, “Hi.”

Spencer smiled, his lips perking up at the edges, “Hello.”

Y/n thrashed as they shifted to turn around and face Spencer. Spencer held back a laugh and loosened his arms. Y/n sighed and looked up into Spencer’s eyes, “We should go take a shower, unless you wanna do the walk of shame.”

“Okay, you’ll need to tell me where it is.”

Y/n scoffed, a faux bewildered expression landing onto their features. “Who’s to say I wouldn’t want you to take a shower with me?”

“If you want me to shower with you, you can just ask.” Spencer's voice quieted to a whisper against Y/n’s ear, “You know you get what you want when you use your words, bumble.”

Y/n shivered and moved away from Spencer, their teeth dug into their bottom lip. “C’mon you dork, shower time.”

Spencer smiled and followed them off the bed and into the hallway. Again, Spencer realizes that he’s been following Y/n quite a bit.

This time, he realizes he’d follow them to the ends of the earth. 

* * *

“I’m officially meeting your friends, and the establishment you choose is a  _ Hooter _ ’s?” 

“I’ll have you know that Chrissie  _ works  _ here. Plus, it wasn’t my choice: Milo’s paying, so it was up to him.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes, he actually didn’t mind going there. He’d never gone, but Morgan had gone once and told him about it. The servers uniform caused them to be clad in shorts that only covered half of their bottoms and low-cut V-necks that showed as much cleavage as possible to let it still be a restaurant where only people getting alcohol needed to be carded while also giving pleny of sex-appeal. 

He knew why they were going here. Y/n wanted to see how good Spencer’s behavior could be when faced with temptations. He wouldn’t fail, of course. He had no need to look at anyone else. Not when he was admiring both the work he’d done to Y/n’s neck and how damn pretty Y/n was in the lighting of the restaurant. 

When their table server came over, Spencer only glanced over her to see her name—Chrissie. So this was one of Y/n’s roommates. Luckily when they were sat down by a host, Spencer was able to sit beside Y/n. However that meant that Milo and Micah, Y/n’s other two roommates, were directly across from him.

Spencer busily hid himself by looking through the menu. He couldn’t mide for long though.

“So, Spencer,” Milo said, “Why exactly did you decide to give me an A despite having done none of the work.”

Spencer winced, instantly recognizing his name, “Ah. Milo Young. I’m sorry, I got my FBI job back and so I couldn’t teach and—”

Micah laughed, “Mi, stop messing with him.”

“Sorry, sorry! I had too! But hey, thanks. I would not have passed your class otherwise,” Milo said with a laugh, clapping a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. Relief flooded through Spencer and Y/n squeezed his hand slightly. 

Chrissie then came back to their table. Spencer was not attracted to her but could see the appeal. Chrissie had tawny curls that bounced around her face, making her waist seem smaller by comparison. Her bright smile and caring attitude made her an overall warm person, including her warm-brown skin. 

“Hello, everyone! Welcome to Hooters, what can I getcha’ started with today?”

Milo smiled, “Cheese sticks for the table and I’ll have a Root Beer. No ice.”

Everyone went around the table ordering their drinks. Micah got a Mountain Dew and Y/n asked for a Long Island Iced Tea.

“I’m gonna need to see your ID.”

Y/n gasped, jokingly saying “You know I can’t use a fake around a fed.”

Spencer glared at Y/n but they just laughed and pulled out their wallet. Chrissie only took a glance at their ID before telling them that their drinks would be there soon and leaving towards the kitchen. Spencer noticed how Y/n’s eyes quickly met his own gaze to try and follow it, but to no avail. Seeing as Spencer was looking at Y/n and  _ not  _ Chrissie’s receding form. 

Together the four ate, laughed, and talked. Spencer found himself easily melding into the conversation. Slowly Milo and Micah started to drink alcohol while Spencer refrained, opting to continue sipping his sweet tea. 

Soon, Y/n was cut off and they were all done with their food. Spencer dragged Y/n out, waving bye to their roommates who were going down the street to a bar. 

Spencer dug through Y/n’s pockets for their car keys and Y/n giggled, “If you want to get handsy at least take me home, first.”

“You’re drunk,” Spencer said as Y/n tried to kiss him. “Let’s get you home and in bed, light-weight.”

Y/n growled playfully, “I like the sound of that, tiger.”

Spencer sighed as he tried to buckle Y/n in, prying their fingers from trying to unbuckle his belt. Then, he sat on the driver's side while creating a map of D.C in his mind. If they were on this street and Y/n lived on that street then they needed to make a left, three rights, and then a U-turn. 

With his directions prepped he drove. 

The trouble after getting to the loft was getting Y/n into bed without them pulling their clothes to try and ‘seduce’ him. Little did they know he would do about anything for them—only while they were sober, of course.

Eventually, Y/n was in their underwear and covered up under their five or so blankets. Spencer pressed a kiss to their forehead and went to leave but was stopped by a hand tugging on the back of his shirt.

“Yes?” he asked Y/n who was looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Stay,” they whispered as silent as a leaf falling from a tree. As if they were scared Spencer wouldn’t want to stay. 

“Do you really want me to?” Y/n nodded and scooted over, with a smile Spencer slid under the covers next to them.

Y/n gravitated towards him naturally, arms wrapping tightly around him and face smooshing to his chest. Spencer smiled as he carefully placed a kiss to their hair. His eyes fell closed and relaxed into Y/n’s bed, which was much too soft for his normal comfort.

With Y/n he wasn’t normal. It was different than being a ‘robot’ with his coworkers, but not quite the same as his co-workers non-normal.

His tedium had been completely destroyed by Y/n and he didn’t mind a bit. “Goodnight, bumblebee.”

“ ‘Night,  _ daddy. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha, sorry for the cliffhanger (kinda?)
> 
> we now know who y/n's roomates are!! yay
> 
> and sex scene
> 
> but oh no, is that a daddy kink showing through? everyone knows drunk people say the truth
> 
> Love you guys. Stay safe, drink water, and have fun!! See y'all next time :)


	5. eating and coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I wrote this so fast its crazy. I tries to give myself a day to rest but it didn't work.

Light filtered through the curtains, shining into Spencer’s eyes and waking him up. Already he started to feel the small nagging of a headache, he thought about grabbing some advil from his medicine cabinet. Spencer didn't keep much medication in his house, but always had just enough for slight pain. 

That’s when his brain started to work and he realized he wasn’t in his home and would have to just deal with the pain. He was in Y/n’s room and in Y/n’s bed. That made sense, considering he did not have a wall painted completely black. From what he could tell, it was chalkboard paint. Neat.

Spencer shrugged the covers off of himself while looking around the room to see where Y/n had gotten to. He realized it’d be fruitless to look with the ability to see. His glasses sat on the small table beside him and slid out of their case to comfortably rest on his face.

When he stands up from the bed, he stretches the wrong way and irritates his leg. A curse falls from his lips at the jolt of pain and the dull stinging sensation that longs after. It had been a while since he’d gotten shot, but he was told that he would still feel pain from time to time. If anything, he was grateful for it. Spencer had _also_ been told he’d unlikely be able to every walk without a cane but then he did it anyway.

Spencer’s fingers push the brim of his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. His feet wiggled a bit before settling onto the floor as he stumbled out of the bedroom.

The smell of food cooking in the kitchen flooded his senses.

“Morning, sleeping beauty, ‘m making drop biscuits, gravy, and eggs,” Y/n gleefully exclaimed, Spencer watched them push the tray of biscuits into the oven before turning back to look at him.

Spencer walked into the kitchen while talking. “You didn’t have to make breakfast. We could have just ordered something.”

Y/n scoffs, rolling their eyes: “Why would I do that when this will be _much_ more satisfying. Besides I wanted to.” The apron in Y/n hands was thrown at Spencer. He fumbled with it to not drop it to the ground. 

“Now,” they demanded, “get in here and stir this gravy for me.”

He did as told, basking in the calmness and domesticity of the quiet morning. The clock on his stove said it was ten-thirty-am, just about 10 hours after he had fallen asleep last night.

“How long have you been up?” Spencer questioned. The spoon he used to stir scraped very lightly against the bottom of the pan.

Y/n hummed, cracking an egg into the bowl before tapping a finger on their chin, “Six— No, since Seven-thirty. I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. So, I got dressed, did my makeup, and then went to the store to get supplies for breakfast.”

“Why did you need to put on makeup?”

Y/n giggled, shaking their head before scooting him to the side to take out the biscuits. “What might the neighbors think if I left looking I was mauled?” 

Spencer felt a warm flush rise into his cheeks. Though the idea that the neighbors might get wouldn’t be _too_ off. “Oh.” 

After Y/n had whisked the eggs, they poured them into the pan. Spencer’s brain is calculating how hot the burner is and how long it’d take to cook the eggs. 

From his research cooking scrambled eggs on medium-high heat was the best way to make them cook properly. With a small smile he noticed that the knob was pointed to the space between medium and high. After roughly ten minutes, Y/n pulled the pan off the heat and turned to look at Spencer.

“Foods done,” Y/n said. A small smirk rests on their lips. “If you have ruined my gravy, I'll dump it on you.”

Spencer rolled his eyes and shook his head while carrying his plate to the table, “You wouldn’t. You’re all bark, no bite.”

Y/n sat down across from him. The glint in their eye spells out danger. Then, they quickly reached forward and swiped a glob of gravy on Spencer’s nose.

“You are so lucky i’m not in the mood for a food war. I stopped doing those after someone threw perfectly good jello in my hair”

Y/n stabs a biscuit, taking a bite and chewing before swallowing, “Anyone who wastes jello deserves to be punched. Now, I cooked breakfast. Eat!” 

As he takes a bite, memories from his childhood flood his mind. Ghosts of a past before his mom’s schizophrenia got too bad. The memories didn’t pain him, Spencer had already come to terms with that he’d never fully get his mother back.

He sipped his coffee, smiling at the amount of sugar being just as he liked it.

The napkin to his side was used to wipe off the gravy from his nose. He sighed, deciding to ask the question that’s been sitting on the top of his tongue since he woke up.

“How do you not have a hangover?”

Y/n rolled their eyes, tilting their cup to show that they were drinking some green hangover cure abomination. “I’m not a forty-year old.”

Spencer glared at them. “Neither am I!”

“You’re close enough,” Y/n mused while taking a bite of eggs.

“Is that why you’re with me? Because I’m old?”

Y/n shook their head, “Nah. It’s ‘cause you’re rich and hot.” 

“I never would have thought ‘rich’ would be one of my qualities. It always seemed more like Rossi’s thing.”

Y/n choked on their drink, coughing into a napkin. “Did you say Rossi? As in David Rossi?”

Mortification flooded through Spencer. Had Y/n and Rossi…?

He spoke his question aloud and was met with awkward silence. _Oh my God,_ Spencer thought, _I need to go crawl into a hole_.

“Spencer, calm down! I was one of David’s _friends'_ sugar baby. It was two and a half years ago.”

He took in a deep breath and exhaled. “I think I died for a moment there.”

The two exchanged a few more words while the _true_ question Spencer had been thinking of itched at the tip of his tongue. Spencer wondered if it had just been a fluke from a drunk and sleep-hazed mind, or if it was something Y/n had _actually_ wanted to call him. 

For some reason the first option scared him, but not as much as the second option did. It wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to be called that, it was more-so that he wanted it more than he should. He took a quick sip of his coffee to prepare for saying the words.

“You called me daddy while half-asleep last night.” It wasn’t a question, shit. He said it like it was a fact—while yes, it was, he meant for it to be a question. Spencer cursed himself for his inability to speak properly when he needed to.

Spencer looks up at Y/n and they’re frozen. They blink. Once, twice, but they aren’t seeing. At last, they say, “Oh. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I—”

“No!” Spencer interrupts, “That’s the thing. I _wasn’t_ uncomfortable.”

A look that Spencer couldn’t quite place fell on them, Y/n leaned over the table, their face growing closer to Spencers. “Are you saying that you liked me calling you daddy?” 

Spencer smiled through the embarrassment that was flooding through his body. He knew there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Y/n was the one who _called_ him daddy first, and they didn’t seem to be embarrassed—at least, not anymore. 

“Yes,” he breathed against Y/n’s lips. Whether it was him or them that moved closer, he didn’t know. All he knew was that their lips crashed together like a crescendo that echoed rumblings into his ear.

The kiss was all gnashing teeth and tongue, they parted for only a moment so that Y/n could jolt over to Spencer’s side of the table. His hands roam despite the fact that they’ve memorized where Y/n wants them. 

He won’t give Y/n satisfaction yet. Something primal stirs inside of him and says that Y/n needs to _earn_ it.

Spencer touches up his hickeys from yesterday—they had not yet faded, but Spencer liked the way Y/n whined as he did them.

“You’re like a vampire,” Y/n said before choking on a moan as Spencer ground their hips down onto his half-mount erection. “Spencer, _touch me_.”

“Nuh-uh, you know what to say,” he whispered against their skin as his hands slid under their shirt to drag his fingertips against their ribs.

Y/n huffed and spoke a loud and to the point, “No.”

Spencer frowned, and retracted his hands from under their shirt. Quickly he moved his plate and drink to the side and set Y/n on the table. “Fine then, I’m not going to touch you at _all.”_

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock. Spencer’s hand lazily palmed his erection as he waited for the apology that he knew was going to come, unless Y/n had decided that they weren’t going to continue this. 

“ _Please,_ I’m so sorry, daddy.” Spencer smirked at the desperation showing through on their face, a sadistic feeling came over him as he smirked.

He clicked his tongue and faked a sad-expression, “Oh but that’s the thing.” His smile then became borderline evil,” You’re _not_ sorry.”

Spencer watched as Y/n’s expressions changed before their eyes ducked down to stare at their feet. “I _am_ sorry.”

Spencer tisked three times, slowly shaking his head. “If you really want to make it up to me, you could use those pretty lips for something other than lying.”

He put out his hands for Y/n to hold onto as they got off the table and sunk to their knees. Y/n’s hands moved to dip under the hem of his pants but he quickly grabbed them. “I said you _could_ not that you _can_. Ask and be polite. Daddy doesn’t reward people who have no manners.”

A loud whimper sprung from Y/n’s lips as their composure broke. Their eyes continued to focus on their hands as they spoke. “May I please suck your dick?”

Spencer hummed as he free hand moved to grip Y/n’s jaw to raise their eyes to his. “Almost. Look at me while speaking, okay? I’ll let you off this time.”

Y/n nodded before proceeding with pulling down Spencer’s pants and boxers. They swiped their tongue across their lips before licking a stripe up the shaft. They then wrap their lips around Spencer, eliciting a deep groan from his lips. 

His hand’s buried themselves in Y/n’s hair, not yet pushing but the authority and idea that he could was still present. Slowly Y/n worked their way down. Spencer, however, didn’t think they were going fast enough and helped out by a sharp tug down of their hair. Y/n gagged as he hit the back of their throat but they didn’t pull away, so Spencer bucked his hips and moved till Y/n was as far as they could go.

Y/n looked so pretty with tears on the edge of their lashes that Spencer couldn’t have been bothered to stop the praise that dripped from his lips like honey, “You’re doing so good for me. You’re so beautiful, bumblebee.”

Y/n moaned around him and Spencer thrusted, pulling back and then repeating. He could tell that the tears streamed down Y/n’s face even despite the fact that his eyes had twisted closed with pleasure. His tongue sang Y/n’s praise and not before long he was cumming down their throat with a guttural moan.

_Shit,_ he thinks, _I should’ve asked first_

It doesn’t seem as though Y/n minded. Not with the way they swallowed before popping off of Spencer with a smile. Their lips were a bright red and spit dribbled down their chin, mixing with the tears, but they were breathtaking. Y/n’s mouth hung open for a moment before they smiled in what Spencer could see was satisfaction.

Spencer didn’t care about the salty taste when he slammed their lips together. The table was already clear from when he had set them there as punishment, so he didn’t need to waste any time before he hoisted them up. Then he was the one looking up at them. He quickly pulled down their sweatpants and underwear, the hunger that he’d put off yesterday coming back in full force.

Y/n’s hands rested on his shoulders, “You don’t need to.”

He nodded and rested the side of his face on the inner of their thigh, his nose brushing the place where he had bit. He said with sincerity: “I want to take care of you.”

Y/n smiled at him, but their eyes didn’t match their lips, there was a pain—a _trauma_ there that Spencer vowed to himself he would dissipate. No one deserved to look so pained at the thought of being taken care of. They whispered and okay and Spencer was consumed by his desire. He didn’t bother holding back any longer.

* * *

Three days later Spencer was sitting in a coffee shop with Y/n across from him. His back was to the wall, so that he could scan the entire establishment periodically. Y/n was actively focused on their ipad, which was open on what Spencer assumed to be an art program. Despite their focus, Spencer could see that something was bothering them. 

About ten minutes before, Y/n had demanded that Spencer let them draw him. So he was sitting there, sipping on his coffee and “reading” a book—really he was using it as a way to hide himself as he looked up at Y/n over the pages.

A white stylus rested in their hand and flew across the screen, it created strokes on the electronic device that Spencer knew were detailing _him._ Every insecurity, every flaw, it would all be present.

And that _scared_ him. There were things that Y/n could change about his face to make him more aesthetically pleasing to the point where he would most definitely compare himself to it. A small voice told him that Y/n wasn’t going to change him, but alas, he feared so. 

Spencer ignored all the doubt plaguing him in order to focus on Y/n. The curves, slopes, and angles that made up their face were all so beautiful that he forced himself to memorize them. Y/n looked up then and caught him staring, he pretended to be reading his book but it didn’t work.

Y/n rolled their eyes at him before inspecting their work. Spencer wished he could see, but knew that Y/n wouldn’t do him wrong. 

“What are you doing now?” He questioned, interested in their artistic process. 

“Selecting the right colors for your skin, eyes, and hair.” Y/n said matter-of-factly. 

Spencer hummed, seemed like it should be easy. “What’s making your tongue stick out like that, then?”

Y/n gasped, “I can’t find the right colors for your eyes; They’re so different everytime I look at them. I can’t decide between amber and that brown color sometimes found in natural obsidian.”

Spencer nodded, he could easily imagine the color but was in no way good at art. Therefore, any input of his wouldn’t be good. Y/n looked deep into his eyes, “Warm-obsidian for the dark parts and obsidian for the mid-tone! I’m a genius.”

He smiled, happy in the joy that Y/n conjured up from even just finding a solution to a problem. He was happy whenever Y/n smiled, which was _bad_. That was the type of thing that might happen in a romantic relationship. Which is something they didn’t have. 

Spencer needed to not blur the lines. If he did things would get messy. He would never force Persephone to stay in the underworld, away from the flowers and their family.

Fifteen minutes passed and Y/n gleefully showed Spencer their work. Spencer’s heart caught in his throat. He wasn’t shown as ugly, or awkward, he was captured in the way that Y/n saw him. 

It showed him peering over his book at Y/n, his eyes alight with color and beauty. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were bright with some emotion that Y/n captured perfectly. His glasses perched on his nose and his eyebags didn’t detriment the art—if anything, it added to it.

Spencer looked up at Y/n, Y/n looked away, “You hate it don’t you?”

Spencer rapidly shook his head. “No it’s great!” Softer, he repeated the words, “It’s great.”

Y/n smiled, “Thank the gods. Now can we leave? I think you need to drive me to the ER.”

Spencer blanched, mouth falling open. Was Y/n hurt? “Why?”

Pain seeped into Y/n;s expression and their hand pressed against their right side, near their navel.

“I think I have appendicitis.”

Oh.

_Oh._

“Yeah, let’s get you to the hospital,” he said robotically while trying to mask any of the panic seeping through his features.

He quickly slid Y/n’s things into his bag and then directed them to Y/n’s car where he promptly stole their keys and turned on the engine. Spencer took a deep breath. Appendicitis wasn’t too bad. It was when the appendix filled with pus and then had the potential to rupture and cause sepsis. But it would be fine with only a bit of surgery! Surgery to remove appendixes happened every day, it has a 98.7% success rate.

Then again, any surgery is a big deal. And so is a 1.3% fail rate. Even if it seemed small, it was still there.

He wasn’t freaking out. 

Spencer was definitely freaking out. He pretended like he wasn’t, though, for Y/n’s sake. 

He pulled out of the lot and drove to the nearest hospital, Y/n’s hand was held tightly in his and he took another deep breath.

It was all going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, appendicitis, boring! but I promise it's important, I wouldn't do it of it wasn't
> 
> Thank you all so much for almost 1K hits and 69 kudos (yes, funny number on a mainly nsfw book, laugh it up) It means a lot to me that you all enjoy my work!
> 
> As always, drink water and stay safe, my loves!!


	6. sugary surgery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Enjoy! 
> 
> TW: Mentions/references to past drug use

Y/n’s fingers tugged at the hospital’s bedsheets. Spencer looked up from his book. “Are you okay?”

They sighed and stared at their arm. Y/n’s gaze was daggering at the IV in their arm, giving them the fluids they needed before surgery. The two had been in the hospital for six hours at that point and were both tired of waiting. 

“I don’t like needles, or hospitals. And I’m hungry!” Y/n pouted and Spencer smiled. 

“I know. You can’t eat before surgery, though. Only two more hours.” Spencer set his reading material beside him. “After this is over, the hospital will be sure to give you something in the morning. You might even get jello!”

That made Y/n smile, “I  _ do  _ like jello.”

“Well then you have to get this surgery!” Spencer exclaimed, “Also, it means you won’t die from septic shock when you appendix ruptures.”

Y/n sucked in a breath of air, “Those ‘r some scary words doc—I think you might need to distract me from how scary they are.”

Spencer rolled his eyes as an idea formed in his head. His gaze latched onto the heart rate monitor that Y/n was attached to.

He gauged Y/n’s expression as he moved closer. “What are you doing?” Y/n asked him with slight apprehension. 

“An experiment,” he moved closer, ignoring Y/n puckered lips and placing a kiss against the column of their throat. His eyes watch their heart rate pick up a few beats. 

Spencer pulled away with a chuckle as Y/n whined. Their heart rate didn’t change—instead, it picked up a bit more. “Does a single kiss really do that to you?”

Y/n gasped, “Spencer!” They narrowed their eyes at him, “No it does not, you just caught me off guard.”

He moves his head from side to side, stretching his lips slightly, “That’s doubtful.”

Spencer moved his hands to cup Y/n’s face, gently, as if Y/n was as breakable as china. In a way, they were. Spencer had never felt more destructive than when making sure that he didn’t hurt them. Feather lightly his lips met Y/n’s before he pulled back and slammed them together. The no longer steady beeping of Y/n’s heart rate monitor audibly increases and Spencer snickers as he pulls back.

“I hate you!” Y/n groaned as their head fell back against the pillow. The nurse came in right about then, telling Y/n that the surgeons were ready and that they would be getting moved to the OR soon.

Y/n’s eyes shot up to Spencer’s. He could see the fear and hesitation there and squeezed Y/n’s hand. “It’s okay. I’ve been in plenty of surgeries and I made it out alive.”

When Y/n smiled it didn’t reach their eyes, “You don’t have to be here. I’m still sorry that I pulled you from the rest of your day’s lectures and mace you miss your lunch break.”

Spencer shook his head at that, “Nonsense. I’m here for you. I promise.”

Y/n’s expression soured a little bit, “Don’t say that. Please. Don’t make a promise you won’t keep.”

He was taken aback but hid the sadness he felt by placing a kiss on their forehead. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Y/n nodded and their heart-rate settled. “Think they can put my appendix in a jar for me?”

He rolled his eyes at that. “I haven’t read anything to suggest that  _ yes, they can  _ but I’ll say that they can’t.”

“Damn. That’s what I thought.”

* * *

“Dr. Reid?” The nurse asked, waking Spencer up from the small nap he had taken. It’d been about an hour and fifteen minutes since Y/n had been moved for their surgery. 

Spencer blinked a few times before answering, “Yes— That’s me— Sorry.”

The nurse smiled sweetly, her shoulders hung from the weight of a long shift, but she put in effort to be kind, “It’s quite alright. Your friend was just taken to room 324, they should wake up from the anesthesia soon!”

Spencer said okay and a quick bye before walking from the waiting room to said room. His lips perked up as he saw Y/n in the hospital bed. They did not have a breathing tube in, so they must have been awake enough to breathe without help from a machine. That was good. It meant that they  _ should  _ wake up in fifteen or so minutes. 

He sat in the chair beside their bed, not bothering to try and sleep again. Instead he pulled out Y/n’s ipad—no, they had not said he could use it, but he was bored and wanted to see what ‘digital drawing’ was like. Soon, Y/n was awake, with Spencer not having noticed. His tongue was between his teeth as he traced the apple pencil across the screen.

His art wasn’t anywhere near the level that Y/n’s was, but he enjoyed his stylistic choices. It always felt very halloween-ish and childish—in only the good ways of course! 

Spencer only realized that Y/n had woken up when they giggled and amorously said, “What’re you concentrating so hard?” They gasped, a joking tone falling into their voice, “Don’t tell me you found my nude photo stash, perv!”

Spencer rolled his eyes, “No, I did not find your stash—does that really exist? I’m drawing a cat on a pumpkin.”

Y/n’s eyes widened and their lips created a small  _ o.  _ “Lemme see! Cats and gourds are my two favorite things.”

Spencer handed the electronic over to Y/n. His mind thought of the small brown kitten. “I haven't seen Cocoa in a bit, where did she get off to?”

Y/n didn’t yet look at the art. Their fingers tapped on the back of the ipad. “Me and Jackie have joint custody.”

Spencer's brows furrowed. Was Jackie one of their exes? And who had joint custody over an  _ animal? _ “Who is Jackie?”

“Oh, yeah. Jackie is my best friend. She moved out a week after we adopted Co, so we decided that she get her one week ‘o the month.”

He hummed in response, more focused on Y/n’s reaction to what he had drawn than anything else. Their expression was sadly unreadable, as if it was a mix of so many emotions that they blended into one another.

“This is really good, Spencer.” Their voice gave no hint to the emotions they felt, either. It frustrated Spencer. He was usually good at reading people, so why did Y/n confuse him so much? Was it just the way they were or was he just easy to confuse. 

Obviously it couldn’t be the second option—he was a genius after all.

Maybe he was just too afraid of accidentally making the mistake of placing a false emotion. Truthfully, he just didn’t want to know. What if he placed the false idea that they could ever be more than what Y/n was comfortable with, and then got hurt in the process? 

No, he needed to stop profiling them. It would only give him the chance to change how he acts, even momentarily, and that wasn't okay. It was  _ manipulative  _ and  _ toxic _ . And he would always be anything but.

“You really think so?”

Y/n nodded, “It's very pretty. The way you draw is shaky but its  _ interesting _ . More than I can say about most of the art I see.”

“Do you see art often?”

They nodded again, “Mhm! I’m working on my bachelors in art and character design—it isn’t what I want to do in life, though. The classes often have open critiques.”

Spencer hummed. “What do you want to do then?” He looked at his hands, “Why not do art if you’re good at it and are getting a degree for it.”

“I’m more focused on finishing my masters than pursuing a career in art.”

His eyebrows shot to his hairline. Working on a masters and a bachelor at the same time? That was not a simple feat, even for a genius. “A masters in what?”

“Education. I want to be a high school teacher and it’s kinda required to have at least a masters plus a bachelors in what I’m specializing in.”

Y/n had never disclosed this much about themself, sure there were some vague mentions here and there, but not much to even go on. Spencer was eager to continue the conversation. “What are you specializing in? Why a highschool teacher? Why a  _ teacher?” _

They laughed. “English, I can’t wait to teach them all how  _ gay  _ Emily Dickinson was. The poetry unit will be my favorite, I’m definitely showing some of Sappho’s fragments! Highschool isn’t good for a lot of people, hell, it wasn’t good for  _ me.  _ I felt like it’d be the place to stop the most damage. Also, being a teacher always seemed fun—stressful, sure, but fun.”

Spencer sucked in a deep breath of air. His heart longed for Y/n to have been there when he was in highschool, a teacher like them would have  _ helped. _ Y/n seems like the type of person to see what was happening, even if only slightly. Spencer warmed at the thought of how many kids would be helped by Y/n, he knew it would be a large number. “That's a great reason. Please, make sure to make them read some foreign literature. Cut Shakespeare, unless it's  _ Much Ado About Nothing.” _

Y/n smiled and gave Spencer back the ipad, wincing slightly. “Duly noted.”

“Are you okay? I can get the nurse, they should give you some morphine.”

Y/n’s smile faltered.

“I don’t need any drugs.”

The wheels in Spencer's head turned faster than he could stop them. He’d said almost the same thing so many times. It was the type of thing someone who had gotten over an addiction to  _ something  _ might say. He didn’t say anything about it, though. He would be defensive if Y/n ever asked him, so he would wait for them to mention it—if they ever did.

“Okay. You should probably sleep. You just had surgery.”

Y/n shrugged. “I’m not really tired. Could you read to me?”

Spencer smiled at them, already digging out something to read. Surprisingly, he only had a single book on hand. He opened it up to the first page. Y/n moved around in the hospital bed, obviously trying to stop their wincing as they did so. 

“Spencer?”

He looked up, “Yes?”

“Lay with me? I made space.”

“I can’t. What if I opened your stitches?”

“Ugh,  _ please _ . We can’t have sex for a while, so the best you could do is cuddle with me. I’m so  _ cold  _ and  _ alone!” _

Spencer rolled his eyes, sliding off his shoes and carefully sliding next to Y/n. The bed wasn’t  _ huge  _ but it was big enough that he could be beside them, though it was a bit uncomfortable. Y/n didn't mind, not with the way they gravitated towards him. 

“You’re so dramatic!” Spencer mused as he opened the book again, giving Y/n a few seconds to settle before reading. 

“Oh, you love it,” Y/n sleepily whispered. Spencer smiled at them while starting the first sentence. 

_ Yeah,  _ he thought somberly to himself,  _ I’m starting to.  _

Spencer was only fifteen pages in when Y/n’s head fell against his shoulder. Spencer set the book down beside them, he could risk taking a nap. He started his first day back from sabbatical next week and could do to stock up sleep. He knew that once he got back there would be a case—there always was. 

His hands gently carded through Y/n’s hair. It weirdly calmed him down. Another item to the list of what Y/n did to and for him. He felt that Y/n was going to change him in a  _ good  _ way and that scared the fuck out of him. A voice that sounded distinctly like Penelope’s quoted a line from one of her favorite movies, it was from Olaf about enchanted forests. The Penelope-like voice says that Y/n is his enchanted forest.

He waves it away, focusing on the evenness of Y/n’s breathing. Nothing seems more important to him than the fact that Y/n is alive. That scares him too.

“I think I’m falling in love with your laugh, and your dramatics, and everything that makes up you. Sorry,” he whispers into their hair before placing a sweet and soft kiss to their forehead. Spencer took in a soft breath and then did his best to fall asleep. 

He dreams that Y/n is hurt and he can’t stop their pain. Dream Spencer decides that he shouldn’t fall in love with Y/n, if only it could stop the real Spencer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I wrote two oneshots before this and its a small chapter, sorry.
> 
> I havent been feeling the best, and I think one of my episodes are coming.
> 
> Don't worry, though, my loves!! You'll get your sugar *daddy* spencer soon, i promise. (also lmk if i need to up my skill at writing nsfw, im mostly a novice at it because i'm demisexual and inexperienced)
> 
> As always, be safe and drink water. I love you all!! Mwah, mwah
> 
> Kiram out!


	7. waterfalls and a reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> tw: second half of the chapter alludes to past non-con, it's not very explicit but its almost danced around

Spencer’s arm carefully wrapped around Y/n’s waist as he walked them to their room. Y/n was whining about how they didn’t need to be babied but Spencer ignored them in favor of enlisting Milo to open Y/n’s door for the two. 

Despite their whining as Spencer practically carried them, he could tell that Y/n was happy to be home. They seemed to be  _ very  _ happy if the way they collapsed immediately onto their bed said anything.

“Oh, my blankets! I missed you so much,” they groaned out while diving face first into their plethora of blankets, pillows and stuffed animals. If Penelope were to see them all, she would be green with envy. 

Spencer sat next to them, “Just think, you just survived a major abdominal surgery!”

Y/n groaned, but then shot up with excitement. “I wonder if I lost any weight!”

Spencer laughed, loudly and freely, “You’re such a dork! Imagine wondering how much weight you lost after a surgery? Oh wait, you don’t need to!”

They rolled their eyes at him. Y/n starfished the bed, arms and legs taking up the entirety of the queen-sized mattress. “Ha ha ha, very funny! Now, come cuddle with me!”

He tossed down the two bags in his arm, kicked off his shoes, and slid under the covers next to Y/n. 

“You’re so bossy.”

Y/n hummed, settling into Spencer’s arms, “Damn right I am!”

“I think that secretly you like it when I’m the bossy one, though.” Spencer’s voice dropped a quarter of an octave, dipping into the voice that only ever seemed to appear around Y/n. Y/n shivered and shifted, grinding slightly onto Spencer’s thigh which had found its way between theirs. 

Y/n didn’t bother answering a yes or no, it would not matter anyway - Spencer knew that they enjoyed it when he was demanding and dominating. It wasn’t a secret. Neither was the fact that Spencer enjoyed it, too. “I thought the doctor said no sex for two weeks.”

“Hhm. I don’t think what I plan counts as sex.”

Y/n bit their lip, eyes darting to Spencer’s lips. “What do you have planned?”

Spencer smirked. He moved them both gently so that Y/n was on their back. Quickly he pressed a kiss to their lips. A chuckle bubbled from his throat as Y/n eagerly chased his lips. “You’ll see.”

He shifted as he slowly crawled down the bed. He pulled down Y/n’s sweat pants and underwear, doing his best to not jostle Y/n and open their sutures. His hands rested on the side of Y/n’s thighs, quickly grabbing them and tugging so that they were on the edge of the bed. 

The floor was hurting his knees, but Spencer ignored it as he moved their legs so that they were on his shoulders. Y/n’s eyes widened with realization. “ _ Oh.” _

Spencer looked up at them through his lashes, “Is this okay?”

“Will be once you touch me.” Spencer rolled his eyes at them. His lips barely trailed over the inside of their thighs. As he switched legs, he nudged his nose quickly against Y/n’s clit, a smile breaking through his lips at their whine. 

His teeth pressed against their skin, not as a warning, but a  _ promise. _ “Spencer,” they said and dug their hands into Spencer’s messy curls. He let out a soft growl in response. 

“Is that what you call me, pretty?” Y/n shook their head no, having already learned that bratiness did them no good. “Well use your words. What do you want.”

“I uhm… I want you to eat me out, Daddy.”

Spencer smiled, “Anything for you.” He licked a long and slow stripe up to Y/n’s clit, laving at it gently. Y/n’s hands dug into his hair and Spencer slipped in a finger, working to coax out Y/n’s first orgasm of the night. 

Y/n clamped their legs around Spencer’s head, he didn’t mind, he could still move easily. His other hand gently held down Y/n’s torso so that they wouldn’t move wrong and hurt themself. 

After their first orgasm, he didn’t stop to slow down, despite knowing that soon Y/n’s pleasure would become borderline painful. 

Spencer grinned sadistically up at Y/n. “I wonder how many times I can make you cum just like this.”

A moan broke from between their clenched teeth. “ _ Please.”  _ Y/n asked. Spencer could tell they didn’t know what they wanted, only that they wanted it.

Spencer smiled sweetly at them and then slowly started to suck on Y/n’s clit. His index and middle finger rubbed at Y/n’s walls. Y/n’s hips bucked into his hands and mouth as they came for a second time. Spencer didn’t stop there. 

By Y/n’s fourth orgasm, they were practically falling apart. Slick slightly coated the bottom half of Spencer’s face and Y/n was on the verge of crying. They hadn’t asked Spencer to stop though, which made Spencer curious as to what would make them tell him to stop. 

Spencer pulled away for a moment. He sucked on his tongue, relishing in the taste of Y/n that was ever present. Spencer looked deep into Y/n’s half-lidded teary eyes and  _ spit.  _ Then he went back down, fingers easily sliding along Y/n. 

There was no need for the extra lubricant but he wanted a certain type of claim on Y/n, and it was the only thing his lust filled brain had come up with. His tongue dipped into them, his fingers slowly drawing circles on their clit. 

Y/n came with a shout, legs clamping even tighter around Spencer’s head, their back arched strongly. Spencer couldn’t stop the way their body bent at an almost inhuman angle. He could only hope it didn’t hurt them in any way.

Spencer realized that something was very different about that, but didn’t connect the dots until he licked his lips, “Did you just - ” Spencer huffed, cutting himself off “Wow.”

“What?” Y/n asked softly. Their voice was hoarse from overuse.

“Have you ever squirted before?” Spencer said in awe.

Y/n shook their head, “I thought that was just in porn.”

Spencer hummed, “Well the proof that it happens is on my face.”

Y/n giggled, “I can see - Can we get a bath and cuddle, ‘m tired, now.”

He nodded, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it tightly around Y/n before scooping them into his arms. Something told him that Y/n’s legs would be too jelly to walk. 

“Ah,” Y/n sighed while wrapping their arms loosely around Spencer’s neck. “I might have to make you carry me like this for the next week!”

Spencer rolled his eyes and sat Y/n on the lid of the toilet. He grabbed the blanket from them and tossed it to the side, it - along with the sheets - would need to be washed. 

“Hey!”Y/n called out when Spencer grabbed a rag and dampened it, “That doesn’t look like a bath to me!!”

Spencer laughed, “You can’t have a bath for two weeks, we already broke one rule. I’m not looking to break any others.”

Y/n sighed, visibly deflating and pouted. “Fine, I can deal with a sponge bath. Especially since I got the cutest nurse.”

“If you say so - Oh, I figured out how Cash App works!”

Y/n fake gasped. “Does this mean I’ll finally get some sugar instead of just daddy?”

Spencer carefully took the rag to their skin, avoiding the place where they were cut into, he wrinkled his nose at them, “You’re such a brat!”

“Oh, you love it!”

_ (Stop saying that!,  _ Spencer wanted to scream,  _ If you keep on reminding me then I will fall in love with you. You don’t deserve that, Y/n. You don’t want that, so stop being so great.) _

Spencer nodded, “Maybe.”

A smile slid onto Y/n’s lips and pulled their cheeks up. The smile didn’t reach their eyes, though, and instead made the sparkle dim, “Yeah… Maybe.”

* * *

Before Spencer could fully open the door, Y/n had already ducked behind him. 

“Hello?” He said ludicrously, “Y/n, it’s almost three am, what are you doing here…” Spencer's voice died down as he got a glimpse of Y/n’s face. It was almost completely red, their skin was slightly shiny from previous trails of the same tears that welled in their bloodshot eyes. 

The way Y/n curled in on themself pained Spencer. Their hands gripped tight to their arms, as if Y/n was trying to will themself into disappearing. Or hold themself together like a broken vase that wasn’t piecing together right and was missing chips and bits. 

Spencer slowly closed his door and Y/n’s eyes widened and their sleeve covered arms quickly wiped at their eyes, trying to hide any evidence of how they felt. “Sorry, I uhm … I don't know why I came here - It’s so late! - I’ll go home - sorry!”

They took in a shaky breath and went to leave but Spencer gently grabbed them by their shoulders and pulled them to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them, Y/n’s head immediately buried into the crook of Spencer’s shoulder with a wet sob. He didn’t shush them, or tell them it was okay. Instead, he guided them to the couch. “You’re safe,” he whispered in earnest. Y/n’s hands gripped onto him like a lifeline - Spencer let them. 

He didn’t like being cried on - too many germs - but he knew that Y/n came to him for a reason, whether he or they knew it or not.

Carefully Spencer rocked the two of them gently, swaying Y/n to a soft rhythm in hopes that their heart or breathing would pick up on its evenness. 

When Y/n could breathe without it sounding choked, Spencer spoke up, “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/n pulled away for a second and violently shook their head in a resounding  _ No _ . Spencer nodded and said softly, “ _ Okay.” _

“What do you need right now?” Spencer’s hands stroked Y/n’s hair softly. Y/n shrugged at him and then shivered. He quickly grabbed the yarn knit blanket off of the back of his couch -  _ a gift from Penelope -  _ and strung it over Y/n’s shoulders. Y/n’s hands moved to grab the edges of the blanket. 

“I’ll be right back,” He quickly jogged to his kitchen, where he had been before Y/n had rapidly knocked on his door. He sighed happily while he checked on the pot on his stove. It had neither boiled over nor gone bad from heat, quickly he stirred it and then grabbed two cups from his cabinet. The liquid was poured in, marshmallows were added, and a dash of cinnamon on top. 

He walked back with both cups of hot chocolate in hand, setting one into Y/n’d hands and taking a sip from the other. Tentatively Y/n followed his lead and sipped on it, a warm smile fell onto their lips. Spencer could tell though, that something still bothered them. 

“Can I put on some music?” They spoke for the first time since apologizing. Y/n’s voice was weak and slightly forced. Spencer nodded, hoping that what they put on wasn’t too bad _ \-  _ he wasn’t the biggest fan of most modern day artists. 

Y/n pulled their phone from their pocket, their hands shook as they clicked and swiped. 

They had had their first day back to work today, Spencer didn’t know what they did, but knew it had odd hours. Obviously, something from work had affected them. Luckily, though, it didn’t seem to be pain _ \-  _ physical pain at least. 

The beat and music that wafts through the air is familiar to Spencer. Y/n set down their phone and schooched closer to Spencer before the first words were sung. 

Y/n softly sang along with the lyrics,  _ “Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly, all your life. You were only waiting for this moment to arise.” _ They only sang the first line, after that they just hummed. 

Spencer found that he didn’t mind and rested his head on the top of Y/n’s. He could tell that running through their mind was something, he wanted to know. 

As the song continued he found himself overwhelmed by the crave; the desire; the  _ yearning  _ he felt to know why Y/n chose this song, to know why they came over to  _ his  _ apartment _ \-  _ despite having only known its whereabouts because of a conversation over text. Spencer wanted to know why it hurt so much to watch them cry, Spencer  _ needed  _ to know that he wasn’t alone in the idea that they could be something more.

_ (He didn’t utter a word for the fear that - well, he didn’t know what he was afraid of in that moment. Y/n’s lashes fluttered closed and they leaned against him more. He couldn’t speak. Y/n didn’t need weird confessions or weird questions. They needed someone to comfort them, someone to hold them. Spencer didn’t speak for fear of losing the chance to be that someone) _

The next song that played was unfamiliar to him. It seemed to be old, though, older than Blackbird. He guessed late 50’s or very early 60’s. Y/n’s eyes opened quickly and they moved fast to pause the song and look up at Spencer. 

“Dance with me?” Y/n asked. Spencer’s mouth dries. 

_ [“Dance with me.” There is a soft but sad smile on Maeve's face as she stands up, her hand reaching only a bit towards Spencer. _

_ He asks after a moment, looking back up from Maeve’s hand to her face, “Why?” _

_ “I want to hold you once before I'm a ghost of a memory.”] _

Spencer didn't know what to say. His voice would come out to squeaky if he tried. He nodded and stood up, wiping his hands on his fluffy pajama pants. Y/n restarts the song. Spencer already has the first few lines memorized.

Y/n is guiding him through the song, it's upbeat and happy so they dance joyfully and pull his hands as if he is a puppet. Though, considering the way he follows their lead, he may as well be. 

_ “Well it's a darn good life _

_ And it's kinda funny _

_ How the Lord made the bee _

_ And the bee made the honey _

_ And the honeybee lookin' for a home _

_ And they called it honeycomb.” _

Spencer smiled, “I know this song!”

“I hope so! It’s a crime to not know Jimmie Rodgers, especially  _ Honeycomb!”  _ Y/n spinned them both around to the music, Spencer laughs as he almost falls.

“My mom used to listen to this - she had on record,” Spencer said as the music died down. The first note of the next song hurt like a gunshot to his chest. 

“Spencer?” Y/n called out worriedly, “Are you okay? You kinda froze there for a minute.”

He looks up at Y/n. “Yeah. This song just reminds me of someone.”

Y/n gasps, “I can change it? I’m sorry!”

“No, no!” he says, “You didn’t know … Could you restart it?”

Y/n smiled at him with a small nod and grabbed their phone,  _ Sleepwalk  _ by Santo & Johnny sounded through the phone speaker. It was the song from the backdrop of his dream, oh so long ago. It had mostly started him due to the fact that he had just been thinking about the dream. 

Spencer pulled Y/n closer to him, their dance becoming slower as they fit together, narrowly avoiding hitting the table. He supposed there needed to be a new memory for the song, a happier one. 

Sure, it was stained by the few - but little - tears that slipped down his cheek and the sniffles that he was sure were coming from Y/n. It didn’t matter though, not a single bit as they danced. 

Y/n was  _ not  _ helping him replace Maeve. No, no one could ever replace her. Y/n was just giving him something else to hold onto when thinking of the song, when listening to the song. 

The two memories (one a dream, the other real) stood in his mind as the song came to a soft close. They weren't the same and they both were nowhere near perfect, but he knew that Maeve would be happy for his new memory. Somewhere, whereve Maeve was, she was definitely glad that Spencer was finally healing. 

If only he could have healed with someone in a different way, with a different relationship. Spencer wasn’t ungrateful, he just wished that they’d have been in a  _ romantic  _ relationship. 

After the song had stopped, no other songs played. Spencer took a sip of his forgotten hot cocoa, placing both of their cups in the sink before directing Y/n to his bed. It was getting late and Spencer needed to work in the morning. 

Y/n sat sleepily on the edge of Spencer’s bed. He carefully began tugging Y/n’s shirt over their head, sat on top of his dresser were a pair of clothes Y/n could borrow for the night.

“No, Spencer,” Y/n grumbled, “I don’t want to right now, it’s late.”

Spencer moved his hands away from them, his mind registered a lilt in their voice. One that said that they were scared Spencer wouldn’t take their no. Disgust and anger at whoever had taught them that their words didn’t mean anything filled his mind.  _ If he was ever able to get his hands on -  _

“Hey, no,” he comforted, “I’m just helping you change into something more comfortable.” Spencer grabbed the clothes sat on his dresser and placed them in Y/n’s lap. “I know it’s late, I would never -” bitterness had tugged into his voice at the end, he took a deep breath in and tried again, “You said no and I respect that,  _ you are allowed a choice, always.” _

Y/n’s hands touched the clothes, they looked up at him and back to their hands, “Okay.”

Spencer moved around to the other side of the bed, sliding under the covers. “The bathroom is right there if you need it, I’ll be here.”

Y/n nodded and walked to the bathroom, exiting a few minutes later in Spencer’s oversized pajamas. Y/n moved under the covers. Spencer expected them to keep their distance - he wouldn't be mad if they did. Instead, Y/n slid as close at they could to wrap their arms around Spencer. 

Spencer reciprocated the cuddle, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/n’s head as he slipped fast into a comfort that he had found only to be when he slept next to Y/n.

“Someone will remember us / I say / even in another time,” Y/n whispers lightly. Spencer smiles

“Fragment 147 of Sappho’s work,” Spencer says back. Y/n nods a yes, their head thudding against his chest. 

“It’s my favorite.”

Spencer hums, “Tell me more about it tomorrow? I’ll tell you my favorite, too.”

“Mkay. Nighty, Spence.” Y/n mumbled, already half asleep.

Spencer smiled as he continued to drift, “Good night, Y/n.”

How could one person be so great? Had Spencer finally found it? Not a carbon copy of himself, but someone who could think the same while challenging him, it was exhilarating. Y/n was changing how he thought with every moment.

_ (Had Hades felt this way when Persephone sprouted a field of wildflowers in the barren underworld?) _

_ I think I already love you _ , was the last thing he thought before falling totally and completely asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, the tone totally changed in the second half! Be warned, the romantic plot is in full swing and the main plot is just about to get started.
> 
> I have continued to write how I feel, wrote this on two seperate days (one where i needed the first half and one where I needed the second)
> 
> It's a comforting kinda feeling m having! Get ready for more cuddles (likely.)
> 
> Heads up - the chapters aren't planned ahead of time, only the main plot, so everything is freeform and unedited. (Just letting y'all know)
> 
> Sorry for rambling, as always, stay safe, drink water, and i love you!"
> 
> <3333 KIRAM OUT!!
> 
> (ps give me feedback on what you think I could improve upon, and if you liked my new formatting with different hyphens and parenthesis better)
> 
> (pps i'm currently about to be swamped with work because of stuff for school and im looking for a job, chapters might go from every 3-4 days to 5-7 maybe even 7-9, oops)


	8. water and fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with this chapter, but it's so so, enjoy

In the morning Spencer took a scorching hot shower. 

Not because he  _ wanted  _ one or because he accidentally turned the knob too far. It was because he needed to burn the idea of being in love with Y/n from his heart and from his brain. 

Obviously, it didn’t work. Spencer sighed and winced at the towel as it irritated bright red skin. Stupid showers causing stupid burns. Luckily, his apartment was relatively cool, which allowed him to not hiss at his clothes if they happened to scritch his skin the wrong way. 

It is only apparent that Spencer is still in love with Y/n as he goes out of his way to make tea, which he knows Y/n prefers to coffee, and then adds honey and sugar to theirs before he even pours his own cup of coffee. 

Spencer is, as Luke would say,  _ Whipped. _ He laughs slightly to himself and walks to his room to gently shake Y/n to wake up. Y/n’s eyes blink tiredly at him and Spencer can’t stop the smile that spreads across his lips as he presses them to Y/n’s forehead. 

Y/n’s hands beeline for the cup and take a long sip, sighing dramatically, “Thank you.” Their voice is thick with gratitude. It’s plain to Spencer that it isn’t just about the tea, it’s about everything. 

“It’s no problem,” he says candidly because it isn’t. Spencer is slowly realizing that he’d let Y/n fuck up his life and  _ thank  _ them. Which is a problem. A huge, gigantic problem, that he can’t deal with because he has a metro train to catch. Spencer walks to the kitchen to make his coffee.

He sighs down at his watch and pours his coffee from the white mug into his only thermos. 

“You’re leaving.” Y/n notes sadly, leaning on the kitchen counter. They had walked in a few seconds ago.

“Yeah, first day from sabbatical - lots of paperwork to do!” Spencer muses with fake enthusiasm. He doesn’t hate his job, in fact he loves it.  _ (He tolerates the paperwork, and has come to begrudgingly like it over the years.)  _ That didn’t mean that he won’t still miss teaching and such. Hey - at least he has a job lined up for if he ever turns in his badge and gun. 

Y/n pouts, “Have fun?”

Spencer takes a sip of his coffee and moves to give Y/n a kiss. 

Their lips lock together rougher than Spencer intended. His hands bury into their hair and he kisses like he won’t be able to kiss them for a week. It’s as if he has a second sense to know when a case is awaiting him. He pulls away with Y/n’s lower lips caught between his teeth, releasing it to press one, two, and three short kisses to their lips. Y/n tastes like chamomile and lemon.

He smiles and backs up, taking his leave. Y/n’s lips are parted and their pupils are blown wide. “Spare key is on the hook, lock up before you leave, bumblebee,” he rumbles out. His voice is deeper after the kiss - he supposes that it’s just what Y/n does to him. They bring out the darker parts of him, in the best ways possible. 

Spencer’s lips are wide in a large smirk as he shuts his door. 

He has a pep in his step, all the way from his front door to the BAU. Everyone notices, as profilers and Spencer’s friends.

“I think pretty boy got laid,” Luke says with a large smirk while elbowing Garcia. Penelope rolled her eyes. 

“Be quiet newbie!” She turned her gaze to Spencer, eyes buzzing behind bright cherry frames, “I would like to know what got that smile on your face! Don’t tell me…” Penelope’s voice trails off. “You got a super special new book over this last month? No.  _ Oh my god you’re in  _ love!” She all but screeches, her voice echoing in the dead silent bullpen. 

Spencer hisses a  _ be quiet  _ at her before he is being dragged to her cave by his arm. Penelope is resilient and does not let go of his arm, no matter how hard he pulls away. She pushes him into a chair and sits in the other, her voice and face is dead serious - though it’s definetly hiding more than a small amount of giddiness- as she says, “Spill.”

He sighs, “On my first day off, I got a text from a number. We talked, we went on a date, we went on a few more dates, uhm. They’re really great, they’re kind, sweet, smart, and charming.”

Penelope nodded, her curls bouncing with her head. “So why are you so sad that you might be in love with them?”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say that-”

With a giggle people whirled around in her chair, her skirt moving with it. 

“There was no need. I might not be a profiler, but I’ve worked here long enough to see when someone who's at their happiest is also secretly dying inside.”

Spencer laughed hollowly, his chest tightening. 

“Y/n, they don’t want a romantic relationship.”

Penelope’s face showed pity and she frowned at Spencer. “Oh honey, I am so sorry. Does that mean that your relationship is mostly - nope! Not gonna think about it. To me, you are still tiny little Spencer! I will  _ not  _ be thinking about that.”

Spencer smiled and Penelope grinned back, “Do they make you happy, at least?”

“Yeah,” Spencer said truthfully, “they really do.”

“Good.”

* * *

Tomorrow he is on the metro when his phone buzzes with a message. 

_ Y/N: good mornin _

_ Y/N: i hate you _

Spencer laughs as he speaks at the message while sitting in the metro car. He quickly types out a message.

_ SPENCER: | _

_ SPENCER: No| _

_ SPENCER: No you d| _

_ SPENCER: No you don’t! _

_ <send message> _

The message buffers and then has a small red exclamation point beside it. Spencer’s brows furrowed as he clicks the button again. It goes through this time. 

Spencer wonders if it’s the train causing his slow service or something else. It had taken him far too long to type than normal - his screen kept freezing and not registering his touches and taps. 

Spencer checks and sees that he only has one bar. 

Huh.

Spencer pulls out a book from his stachel, immersing himself in the world of science and math. There’s no love there, and it’s safe. Rules, formulas, inputs and outputs, behavior, chemicals, it’s all simpler and far more easy to understand. 

He finds himself frustrated with it for some reason. Perhaps it’s because life cannot be described by equations or procedures. 

He bites down on his tongue as he realizes what he thinks life is. It’s  _ far  _ too early in their relationship (of which there is not even a romantic one) to describe life as everything Y/n inhabits. 

That doesn’t stop him from thinking about it, just like a scolding shower didn’t burn away his thoughts or feelings. 

_ (Spencer realizes he should get some better coping habits. Seeing as his can be classified as borderline self harm.) _

A message from Y/n comes through twenty minutes later.

_ Y/N: you’re rite. don’t let it go to your head, doofus! _

He rolls his eyes and sends back a quick  _ I won’t.  _

That’s the last message he sends before the sounds of screeching metal and a blast fills his ears. 

Spencer registers himself jolting from the seat as his hands try to find purchase on the seat; the walls; the floor. They slide off of the surfaces and he finds himself internally panicking. 

Luckily, the rest of his fall and being thrown across the train is somewhat quick - terrifying - but seems to be over in only a few seconds. Pain blooms across the back of his skull and his knee. A concussion, he assumes. 

Luckily, the passengers a;; in his car were safe. Save for three passengers who only had minor bone injuries. 

Spencer’s brain is then piecing things together much faster than he can catch up. 

An explosion from the first car of a crowded metro subway train, during morning rush. He doesn’t wish to assume, but it profiles as terrorism. 

_ Morning rush  _ his brain echoes.

_ Morning rush _ there’s more emphasis on the ‘rush’ part this time. Spencer’s eyes widen as he stares out the window. 

“Get as close as you can to the front of the car, now!” he says. Everyone scrambles to the front, trusting the man in a suit. Spencer is lucky that his brain works fast. Two seconds later the train lurches forward and he falls as the impact of another train hits them. 

Their car is at the end and takes the brunt of the force. It caves and buckles with a horrible screech. The pain in Spencer’s skull is amplified with a headache.

Morning rush - there’s more people and more chances of collisions. Add a downed train in and it’s anarchy.

He grapples for his phone, wheezing at the pain in his chest. He’d been hit at some point during the crash, his brain seems to have blanked on when or how. 

“911, what’s the location of your emergency?” the operator calls out as Spencer’s call goes through. He breathes a sigh of relief.

“This is SSA Doctor Spencer Reid, there has been a metro crash on the green line. An explosion from somewhere in the front of the first train. Another train collided with us, we’re about 10 minutes from the station by Quantico.” He steadied his breathing, he’s been in worse emergencies before, “From what I can tell there aren’t any major injuries. The front is on fire, though. The second train was able to slow down a considerate amount.”

Spencer was so relieved that the damage wasn’t too bad, but he was also worrying about the fact that he should be at work.  _ Hopefully this won’t warrant more days off,  _ he thinks bitterly.

The voice on the other side wavers. “Spencer?” Y/n asks.

“Oh God,” Spencer breathes, “Yeah. It’s me.”

“Okay, you’ve been in high stress situations before, so you know what to do.”

Spencer dumbly nodded, as if Y/n could see him, “Uhm, yes.”

“Okay, I need you to check on the other passengers, make sure they’re not too injured. Police and firefighters are five minutes out. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, I should check where the fire is. I already made sure the people in this one were safe.”

On the other line Y/n sucks in a deep breath. “Listen to me, do not, under any circumstance go into the fire. Only try to lead who you can away from the fire, got it?”

“Y/n I’m not dumb, I wouldn’t walk into fire! But yes, I got it.”

Spencer tried to move through the subway, checking on people when he could. Most of them were minor injuries, maybe a broken bone or a cut. All the while he mumbled statistics to calm himself down.

“An averaged 1,000 people die a year in train related accidents. In 2019 there were 937 fatalities because of trains. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but in comparison elevator crashes only kill an average of 30 people a year.”

“Okay, Spencer, that’s good, focus on your statistics. The help is there. You’re safe.”

Spencer hummed and his nose wrinkled as he smelt something, he earned closer to the fire side of the train and listened closely to the sound coming from the fire.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly, backing up. “You might need to send more help. I think there’s another bomb.”

Spencer tuned and ran, but knew that he was already too late. His phone flow from his hand as the force of the explosion pushed him through the air, the shrapnel cutting at his clothes and slicing through the skin of his back. 

His phone sounded quietly, “Spencer? Are you there?” Y/n paused. “Spencer?!”

“M here,” he said weakly, “I think the people I couldn't get out are dead - I failed.”

“No.”

Y/n’s voice was quiet as Spencer’s phone speaker was mostly destroyed, “You did the best you could. Yell for the paramedics, you might be seriously hurt.”

Spencer blinked slowly, wanting more and more to close his eyes and not open them. He hummed and then smiled, “K. K. bumblebee. Why do you hate me?”

His eyes closed as he heard the stomps of paramedics land near him.

Y/n sighs, "Because you're perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda sad that no one commented last chapter. 
> 
> Not gonna stop writin tho! Love you guys


	9. stupidity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack, my mental health has been preventing me from writing so enjoy this! Im taking a two week hiatus

“Idiot!” Y/n hissed at Spencer. They were livid. Y/n’s face was bright red and their hands were balled into fists at their side. “Do you know what I thought when I got the call from you and then you just stopped responding to the paramedics? I thought you were dead!”

Spencer sighs, raising a hand to press against Y/n’s cheek. They lean into his palm. “I’m sorry,” Spencer says softly. 

Y/n’s hand presses against his. “I know you are. It’s not your fault - you just gotta be a hero, huh?”

Spencer nods with a soft smile on his lips. Y/n’s rolls their eyes and flicks Spencer’s forehead, Spencer fake winces. “Well, next time don’t end up with bruised ribs, burns, and ear damage, okay? My face is too pretty to be marred by stress from worrying about you!”

“You forgot a concussion,” Y/n glared at him like hellfire, “Alright, alright. I’ll be more careful. Now, I would  _ really  _ like a kiss, please.”

They pouted at him and shifted closer till Spencer could press a kiss against their lips. Spencer’s hands trailed down their shoulders to wrap tightly around their waist. Y/n sighs into the kiss as Spencer pulls them into his lap. 

The two are at Spencer’s apartment, with Spencer sitting on his bed while Y/n stood between his thighs. Y/n had shown up as fast as they could after work. 

“Spencer,” Y/n sighs contentedly as his lips press warm kisses to the column of their throat, “You’re  _ hurt.” _

“Don’t care,” Spencer says while dancing his fingers under Y/n’s shirt to pull it over their head. Spencer notices something as his hands trail down their form. Yes, he had noticed the scar before, but he didn’t realize how  _ obvious  _ it was. He didn’t pay any attention to it, there was no reason to ask and make them feel uncomfortable. 

Y/n’s eyes flutter to a close as they give in to the brush of Spencer’s lips against their neck and his hands palming down their thighs. Their fingers lace into his hair before they huff out a sigh, pulling away. “You’re hurt.” They mumble.

Spencer hums. He buries his head into the crook of Y/n’s neck, “Wanna be close to you, pain is manageable.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, pleasure is commonly known to cancel out pain.”

Y/n cheekily smiles at him. “Let's get rid of your pain then, yeah?”

Spencer pulls them from their feet, not into his lap, but onto his thigh. He places a kiss to their lips - deep, but gentle and soft. 

_(someone,_ _not privy to what their relationship was, might have called it a loving kiss)_

Y/n breaks from the kiss to press their lips against Spencer’s neck, licking and sucking, they nibble against his jaw. As if they can try to make Spencer ignore the way their legs and hips slowly shift on his thigh.

His hands stoke through Y/n’s hair before tapping on the upside of their thigh, “What are you doing?” 

They pull away to look at him, Spencer smiles as he watches them internally panic. “I- I’m just kissing you.”

“Are you sure?” his fingers move up their thigh as if they’re walking. Y/n quickly nods, eliciting Spencer to laugh. “If you want to ride my thigh, you just have to ask.”

Y/n swallows before looking up at Spencer through their lashes. His breath catches in his throat at how doe eyed and innocent they look. 

“May I please ride your thigh, daddy?”

Spencer smiles sweetly at them, “Of course, I just have one little question first. Okay, angel?” Y/n nodded and Spencer continues. “I was wondering how you’d feel about being called something gendered, like, princess?”

When Y/n tenses, Spencer knows he’s asked the wrong question. 

“Shit - I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intent, I-”

“Spencer,” Y/n says all sugary and soft, cutting him off as they gently place their hands on his cheeks, “I freeze when I think, sometimes. It’s okay, take a deep breath for me?”

He nods and follows Y/n in a few exaggerated breaths. “You were in a traumatizing event, it’s okay if you need some time. Tell me, what do  _ you  _ need?”

“Actually, other people have been in worse situations.  _ I  _ have been in worse situations. Really, I’m fine.” 

“SSA Doctor Spencer Reid, look at me.” Y/n’s voice is on the verge of frustration as they lightly tap Spencer’s cheeks with the pads of their fingers. “Your hurt is real, don’t brush it off. You’re not fine, and that’s okay. On Sunday you took care of me, no questions asked.  _ Please,  _ let me help you. You can’t be the only one with a hero complex, yknow?”

Spencer laughed at that, knowing that there were tears on the edge of his eyes. “First, you didn’t have to use my full title. Second, I do  _ not  _ have a hero complex.”

“If you say so, babe. Now. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“You haven’t answered mine!” Spencer shot back. His hands rest on Y/n’s waist and rubs circles into their skin. 

“Ok. No, I would not mind being called princess. That’s it though - anything else gendered would make me uncomfy.” Y/n’s pinkies run underneath Spencer’s jawline and their thumbs trace the curve of his cheek. Their hands are only a little cold but still leave Spencer’s face and cheeks warm. 

“Plenty of people like to be called princess. One of my guy friends told me that they used to like being called princess. It doesn’t feel like being misgendered, despite its feminine suffix,” Y/n continues. “Thank you for asking me if I would be comfortable, it means a lot.”

Spencer leans back, using his grip on Y/n’s waist to pull them with him. They both flop on the bed with Y/n’s head moving to lay on his chest. His hands and arms wrap tighter around their waist. “This. I need this.”

Y/n rolls off of Spencer. He watches as they kick of their shoes and shuck of their pants onto the floor. Mistress of moving back to their place on Spencer chest, they move to the top of the bed and slide under the cover.

They tap their hands on the space beside them and Spencer wastes no time clambering next to Y/n. They pull at each other till they are chest to chest and their noses are brushing.

Spencer pushes forward, his hands moving to their hair as he kisses them. Y/n hums into the kiss as they try to move closer - hands inching along to glide across Spencer’s back and sides. It’s not frantic, like it was before - if that could even be  _ called  _ frantic - but it’s different. It’s softer and something intangible has shifted. But not changed. No. Everything is still the same.

Somehow, Spencer finds himself wishing something has changed. That the murmurs of words that he presses into Y/n were more than just a sound or frequency or vibration. His hands are pulling off Y/n’s pants and wondering if it would be easier to end the two of them right now or let himself succumb to an emotion that is  _ not  _ welcomed  _ (despite how much he wants it to be)  _ and get hurt in the long run.

He makes his decision by pulling Y/n impossible closer with his free hand, the one that does not have its fingers occupied by pumping gently into Y/n. He nuzzles his head into the place where their shoulder meets their neck, he nips and kisses at the skin there, listening to the sounds flowing from Y/n’s lips. 

Spencer’s thumb rubs circles into Y/n’s clit as he carefully coaxes them into an orgasm. He pulls his fingers to his lips to lick the taste of Y/n clean off of them. Y/n watches him with parted lips and hazy eyes. Spencer presses a quick kiss to the tip of Y/n’s nose and then their lips before shifting the two of them so that his back is against the wall and Y/n’s legs are on either side of him. He pushes his hands from the side of Y/n’s leg by their knee all the way to their hips to pull down their underwear. 

“Not fair,” Y/n pouts while messing with the buttons on Spencer’s shirt. “ ‘M all naked and you’re completely dressed.”

He hums offhandedly, “Do you want to undress me?”

Y/n nods, “Yes please, daddy.”

“Okay bumble, go ahead.” Y/n’s fingers nimbly unbutton his shirt to place their hands on his chest and then push his shirt off of his shoulders. He does the rest by pulling it off his arms and tossing it to the side, Y/n uses that time to pull down his pants, not all the way though, they both now have the urgency to get back to being close together. 

Y/n grinds softly onto Spencer’s dick as he runs the head of it through their folds, gathering the wetness that has accumulated there. Y/n’s wrap around his neck to hold his hair as Spencer slowly buries himself into Y/n. Their chests are pressed together.

It feels so good to be cared for, Spencer notes. Even if the person caring for you doesn’t feel the same way. To Spencer, being with Y/n is enough. Holding them, kissing them, taking them on lavish dates. That reminds him, he should take them somewhere tonight. If it’s not too late, of course. It’s only a fleeting thought before he doesn’t really think anymore.

If he does think, beyond praises for Y/n, it would be a choir and echo of ‘ _ I love you.’ _

“So good for me, princess,” he says as his pace picks up, Spencer’s hands practically slamming Y/n down onto him.  _ ‘I love you, I love you, I love you. I wish I didn’t, it would be so much easier to not.’  _

Spencer can’t bear to hear Y/n’s voice, not when a fake version of it in his mind is saying that they love him too. So, he takes two of his fingers and taps them against Y/n’s lips, groaning when they open to suck on the digits greedily. Spencer’s index and middle fingers draw in and out of their mouth while the other’s wrap around the hollow of their cheek and their chin. It’s much easier to make the sight of Y/n so erotic than to let  _ this -  _ whatever this is - be an almost romantic memory. 

He pulls his fingers from their mouth to rub their clit, not stopping his almost (if not only mentally) loving pace. They aren’t  _ fucking  _ but they aren’t  _ making love  _ either, it’s a mix between the two that Spencer likes more than he’d ever admit. 

Y/n cums a few seconds before Spencer does, but he ignores his own pleasure to the best of his ability to help Y/n ride their wave. Y/n’s body goes limp on Spencer and he presses a kiss near their hairline. Y/n comes back to life with an airy and carefree giggle, it’s so sweet that Spencer almost forgets his woes.

“Mmm,” Y/n hums as their cheek presses against Spencer’s shoulder, “I forgot it could be like that.”

Spencer crooks his neck the best he can too look at them. “Like what?”

They shrug flippantly, Spencer can tell that there’s something they’re not saying but lets it slide. After all, he wouldn’t want them to question him.

“Hey,” Spencer says softly after a few minutes of cuddling like they were, him still buried inside of Y/n. “Let's go out to eat.”

Y/n pulls back to look at him with a confused expression. “It’s too late for reservations and I’m not in the mood for fast food or delivery.” 

“I know someone who can get us a reservation at say…” Spencer pauses to look at his bedside clock, it was currently six fifty-six, “... Ten?”

“That’s enough time for me to get home and get all dolled up.” Y/n noted.

Spencer nodded, “Enough time for me to call in my favor and get us our reservation, too.”

Y/n smiled widely, “I should move and clean up then.”

He shook his head. Spencer would never make someone clean themselves up after sex, it was in the general moral conduct not to! “Please,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead. “Let me.”

“Anything for you,” Y/n sighed dramatically.

* * *

“Hey, Pen.” Spencer says as the phone picks up. 

“Hello, hello, my love. To what do I owe this call from my favorite G-Man?” Garcia replies, as bubbly as ever. 

“I’d like to cash in a favor, if possible.”

“Honey, I’m a miracle worker. With me, anything is possible. Now, spit it out! Full story or whatever you want is no bueno.”

Spencer sighs into the phone receiver. “I told you about the person I’m in a relationship with, right? Well, I’m taking them to dinner tonight, and was wondering if you could hack into a restaurant and out my last name down for a reservation at ten?”

“Pshhh, easy peasy lemon squeezy, babe. First. I want every detail. Momma doesn’t work for free, hmm?” Penelope knows how to get her way, and Spencer could never lie to someone who had worked around profilers. She wasn’t a trained one, but needed a good eye on the computers to decide if a guy fit the profile or not. 

His free hand moves around his shirts in his wardrobe to find the right one. “They happen to be the first responder I called on tuesday. That doesn’t matter though, they’re more than some random person that texted me or someone that I’ve gone on a few dates with. I’m in love with them and it’s fucking scary.”

Penelope hums on the line, “Tell them how you feel, it’ll hurt you if you get rejected but in the long run…”

“No!” he interrupted, “I can’t. I don’t care that it hurts me that Y/n could never feel the same way, I want to make us last, so that I can love them longer.”

“It seems as though I can’t help you with advice then. I can get you your reservation, though.”

“Thanks Garcia, I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

* * *

Y/n decided that they wanted to drive themself to the restaurant and back, instead of Spencer picking them up and dropping them off. That was fine with Spencer because he was planning on using the metro anyway. 

Except for that when he was just about to enter the subway he paused and turned around. Guess his subconscious wanted him to drive, then.

Spencer showed up first, having already left for the subway early just in case. Luckily his hacked reservation went through and he was able to get seated, hassle free. When the hostess tried to seat him at a table where Y/n would be across from him, he politely asked to be seated at a booth, which led him to be met with a raised eyebrow and a  _ ‘Follow me, then, sir.’ _

After that he could do nothing but wait till Y/n were to show up. He took that time to scan over the menu, two times (if two was the equivalent of thirty, of course).

Eventually Y/n was being led by the hostess to the table, who then said that the waiter would be there soon.

“Hey, hey,” Y/n grinned while sliding in next to Spencer. Their hands quickly laced together as Spencer took a moment to admire what they were wearing. Their hair was styled perfectly, and they were dressed to the nines. The light glinting off of their nails showed that they had put on shiny clear nailpolish with the pinkies being a dark, wine red that matched their outfit.

“Red looks nice on you,” he mused in lieu of a greeting. 

Y/n grinned at him with a soft ‘ _ thank you’  _ before looking at their menu. They glanced through it, tongue between their lips as they decided. Spencer was waiting for them to choose before choosing the wine, that way it would fit with whatever they both decided on.

When the waiter came over, Spencer asked Y/n what they were having. Their dish paired best with a white wine, which was lucky considering that was what Spencer’s also best paired with.

Just as the two were getting ready to place their main dishes, Spencer’s work phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and was rewarded with a call from Emily, likely about an emergency case or so. The phone is brought to his ear and he listens to Emily, shooting a look to Y/n that screams “ _ sorry.” _

Y/n deflates as Spencer pulls the phone away. “Guess we’ll have to postpone?”

Spencer nods, “I’m so sorry, you can still stay here and eat, I—”

“No! Only sad weirdos have their dates leave them and then eat alone.” Y/n pouts, arms crossing their chest. “We’ll both leave at the same time, make it look like it was our idea?”

His brows furrowed, “Our idea?” Y/n moved closer to Spencer and slid their legs over Spencer’s lap, their hands traveled across his chest and shoulders. “Oh,” Spencer breathed.

Their lips connected in a hasty kiss that was not entirely for show. Spencer chuckles, “You’re insatiable!”

Y/n hums. “You don’t mind. Now, let’s leave, shall we?” 

“We shall.” 

Spencer and Y/n walk out of the restraint with Spencer’s arm curled around Y/n’s waist, pulling them close. The two ignore the baffled states of the staff.

They part for their own vehicles with a kiss, Spencer opting to drive to Quantico.

Emily had briefly talked about the case. Six victims, evolving MO, with nothing but victim and crime scene profiling for evidence.

Apparently, the only reason they weren’t connected beforehand was the different victims. One would be a pair of women, differing ages, both white. While the next pair would be a non-binary individual and a man, different in both race and age. 

The only thing making them done by the same unsub was the single black feather left behind by the perp.

It was, to say the least, peculiar.

Even more so once there was digging done behind the pairs. 

To Spencer, this all seemed too familiar.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys! Stay safe, as always <33
> 
> also, sorry for the cliffhanger!! The main plot is just tarting to unfurl.


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